Step into the heart of the Sonoran Desert with me, where the saguaro cactus stands as a timeless giant, a symbol of resilience and beauty. This majestic sentinel of the Southwest is not just a plant; it’s a vibrant ecosystem and a cultural icon, embodying the spirit of endurance. Let’s explore its centuries-long journey, its role as a haven for desert wildlife, and its deep significance to the indigenous peoples. Join me in celebrating the saguaro’s enduring legacy, a narrative of survival and the profound beauty of life in the harshest conditions.
Join me in exploring the depths of “Hamlet,” where the phrase “revisits thus the glimpses of the moon” unveils a world where the supernatural meets the mysterious moonlight. Let’s unravel this imagery together, reflecting on life’s transient beauty, seeking understanding, and contemplating the cycles of change under the moon’s spell.
In Ithaca, a local artist made a bridge over Cayuga Lake Inlet their canvas, painting an eccentric wizard, dubbed Alphazar, in urban attire and a range of emotions. Reactions range from surprise to contemplation, giving the bridge a surprising hotspot quality. Increasing ivy coverage sparks thoughts of nature reclaiming the urban area. This art piece reiterates the spontaneous nature of humor and art.
Fillmore Glen State Park in Moravia, New York, offers a changing landscape that serves as a living canvas, with the ironically named Dry Creek feeding its lush greenery. The ebb and flow of water from the creek creates a dynamic setting. Seasons dramatically alter the scenery, from tranquil springs to vibrantly colored autumns, beautifully captured through fine art photography.
An evening at Cayuga Lake Inlet, home to the Cornell University Crew, is depicted as a serene haven for reflection. The Collyer Boathouse, vital to the local lore, sits across the inlet holding a rich history of crew camaraderie and competition.
In the gentle embrace of the Finger Lakes region of New York State, the crisp post-Thanksgiving air is a mix of woodsmoke and the faint whisper of winter on the horizon. The earthy scent of fallen leaves, damp from the morning dew, begins to permeate the atmosphere, beckoning families outdoors to partake in the timeless ritual of leaf gathering.
The landscape is a canvas of russet and gold, painted by the hands of autumn. In one of the many serene backyards, framed by the skeletal silhouettes of trees now slumbering after their fiery display, a mound of leaves becomes the center of joyous activity. Here, a child, bundled in the cozy layers necessary to fend off the chill, is immersed in the simple, yet profound act of play. The leaves, a tapestry of oaks and maples, become her castle, her sea, her world to explore.
Her laughter rings clear, a melodic counterpoint to the rustling leaves as she is lifted high by loving hands only to descend into the crunchy embrace of her leafy playpen. A grandfather, his face etched with the smile lines of countless summers and autumns past, becomes the orchestrator of this joy. His flannel shirt, a patchwork of reds and greens, reflects the colors of the season, and his hands, weathered from years of tending to the earth and its cycles, now tenderly guide the child in her play.
The rake, usually a tool of labor, becomes a wand of magic, directing the leaves into heaps that rise and fall with each jump and dive. The child’s mittened hands grasp at the leaves, each one a different hue, a different shape, a different story. They fly up around her like a flock of birds taking flight, then settle back into their collective, creating a soft rustling symphony that speaks of the changing season.
The photographs of this gallery are by Soraya Leathers
As the sun begins to dip lower, casting elongated shadows across the yard, the child’s energy wanes. The vibrant activity gives way to tranquil moments of rest, with the child now lying still among the leaves, her eyes reflecting the vastness of the sky above, clear and blue, a window between the earthly and the infinite.
The day wanes, and the leaf-gathering winds down. A final tableau shows the child, now indoors, cocooned in the warmth of a blanket that mirrors the plaid of her grandfather’s shirt, the same colors now muted and soft. Her eyes are heavy with the weight of a day well spent, her dreams surely filled with the laughter and the leaves and the boundless love that turns even the simplest act into a treasure of memories.
This is the essence of leaf gathering in the Finger Lakes after Thanksgiving – not just the collection of what has fallen, but the gathering of family, of joy, and of moments that will be cherished and recalled long after the last leaf has been tucked into the earth’s winter bed. It’s a time when the harvest is not just of the land’s bounty but of the heart’s. Each leaf, a reminder that even as the world prepares to sleep beneath the snow, life is rich, full, and evergreen in the hearts of those who share it.
In November 2003, my son Sean and I journeyed up Route 191 from Petrified Forest National Park, arriving in Chinle on a crisp autumn afternoon. My photography equipment at the time was modest: a Sony Point and Shoot 5 MP camera with filters, a purse-like over-the-shoulder bag, and a basic tripod from Kmart.
We reached the White House trailhead in Canyon de Chelly and began our hike. The trail was quiet, and as the sun set at 5:20 pm, we found ourselves virtually alone. A dense growth of Russian Olive trees dominated the wash at that time. In the dimming light, I captured a distant shot of the White House Ruin, whitewashed, set against the backdrop of autumn-hued Russian Olive foliage. Nearby, a grove of Cottonwoods, still green, stood near the canyon wall.
By the time Pam and I returned in July 2008, four years and nine months later, the landscape had changed. The invasive Russian Olives had been removed, and the White House Ruin was no longer painted white.
The same Route 191 that Sean and I had taken in 2003 led us through the Four Corners region of Northern Arizona. Pam and I had traveled from Colorado, arriving in the late afternoon. This time, the Navajo Reservation’s adherence to daylight savings time meant the sun wouldn’t set until 8:33 pm. My aim was to photograph the White House Ruin that I had missed years earlier.
That July day the sun set 8:33 pm as the Navajo Reservation observes daylight savings time. My goal was to photograph the White House Ruin I missed in 2003. We arrived at the trail head. My photography kit was expanded from 2003, now included a Kodak DSC Pro slr/C, the “C” meaning “Canon” lens mounting, a Sony 700 alpha slr (I only use a variable lens), Manfrotto tripod with hydrostatic ball head, and the backpack style Lowe camera case. With the tripod it is over 25 pounds.
With this on my back I was prepared to boogie down the trail. At the height of tourist season there were many more people at the trailhead. Pam, being a friendly person, started a conversation while I ploughed ahead along the flat canyon rim. It is solid red sandstone, beautiful, generally level with enough unevenness to require attention. When Pam saw how far ahead I was she tried to catch up, tripped, fell hard.
I backtracked to Pam and we decided what to do. She thought, maybe, the fall broke a rib. We decided to proceed and descended, slowly, together. Here we are in front of the ruin. The sun, low in the sky, is moving below the south canyon wall. This is a perfect time, and I used both cameras.
The sweep of cliff and desert varnish was my intent to capture. Here it is through the Canon 50 mm lens.
In a heartwarming YouTube video, Samuel Jack Wills and his grandmother Pam turn cake-making into an adventure in celebration of his Batman-themed birthday. The video captures endearing family traditions, from a talking doorbell to playful gift unwrapping, and culminates in the creation of a Bat-Signal adorned cake and joyous birthday song.
Grab your capes, click on our video, and be a part of our delightful celebration that’s sure to lift your spirits sky-high!
🎉 Get ready for an extraordinary adventure into the world of cake-making with our superstar, Samuel Jack Wills, and his magical sidekick, Grandma Pam! 🍰✨ It’s a special day just before Halloween, and the excitement is as palpable as the crisp autumn air. 🍂
🦇 In our latest heartwarming YouTube video, witness the grand entrance of our birthday hero, Sam, as he strides through the gate with his dad, Sean Wills, to a chorus of giggles and gasps, thanks to our quirky, talking doorbell that’s become an outrageous family tradition. 🎈
Join us in the celebration as Sam unwraps wonders from Grandma Pam and Grandpa Michael: from a thrilling Batman-themed birthday card that lights up the room with a Bat-Signal magnetic sticker, to a fleet of Gotham-inspired toys including an aircraft, the Batcave, and even miniature treasures like a suitcase brimming with play 100 dollar bills. 🏰💰
Sam and Grandma Pam put on their chef hats, discussing and designing a cake that’s not just a treat but a superhero saga! 🎂 With buttercream as smooth as velvet and chocolate layers that whisper ‘indulge’, they create a masterpiece adorned with blue and yellow frosting, featuring the iconic Bat-Signal.
And what’s a Batcave without boulders? Watch them skillfully make Rice Krispy treat boulders to scatter around their edible Batcave — a feast for the eyes as much as the taste buds. 🍫
The grand finale is a chorus of joy as Sam, surrounded by his loving family, basks in the glow of birthday candles and the warmth of the Birthday Song. 🎶 It’s a day where memories are made, laughter is shared, and love is multiplied.
So grab your capes, click on our video, and be a part of our delightful celebration that’s sure to lift your spirits sky-high! 🚀 Don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe for more family fun with the Wills clan! #SuperSamCakeAdventure 🥳👨🍳
Here we have the harmony between humans and nature, represented through woodland shelters like lean-tos and birdhouses. It portrays these shelters as spaces of coexistence, mutualistic masterpieces blending function, form, and aesthetic in nature.
Hint: click image for larger view. Ctrl/+ to enlarge / Ctrl/- to reduce
…vines running free.
In the dappled sanctuary of the woodlands, where the rustle of leaves is a constant whisper and the breeze carries the secrets of the earth, there lies an unspoken harmony between the realm of the rooted and the realm of the roving. Here, the art of shelter is not just necessity but poetry—a dialogue between man and nature, bird and branch, leaf and sky. It is in the woodland shelters—those humble lean-tos and the charming birdhouses—that this conversation finds its most enchanting expressions.
A lean-to, a simple structure, a slant of sanctuary against the embracing trunk of a venerable oak or the crook of a steadfast pine, rises like an ode to minimalist refuge. It is both a testament to human ingenuity and a bow to the grandeur of the forest. Constructed from the very bones of the woods, with limbs that have fallen in the last tempest’s dance, it is clad in the textures of the wild—a tapestry of bark, a patchwork of leaves. It does not impose but rather suggests, whispering, “Here, rest awhile, where the earth holds you and the canopy cradles the sky.”
Within this woodland embrace, the lean-to is the hermit’s haven, the hiker’s pause, the dreamer’s alcove. It is the place where one can commune with the murmur of the brook, the chitter of the squirrel, and the silent flight of the owl at twilight. It is here that the smoke of a small fire mingles with the mist of dawn, where stories unfold to the rhythm of the crackling embers and the forest listens.
And what of the birdhouses, those quaint dwellings that pepper the woodland tableau? They are not mere shelters but the grand stages for the aerial ballet of wings and the morning serenades of feathered minstrels. Each is a mansion of possibility, an invitation etched in wood and lovingly placed among the boughs. They are the outposts of avian dreams, where the pulse of tiny hearts beats in time with the dripping of rain and the warmth of the sun’s caress.
The birdhouse is a symbol of the generosity of the woodsman’s spirit, a gift to the skyborne, a token of respect to the delicate denizens of the firmament. Here, the chickadee, the finch, the nuthatch, and the wren find respite and nurture the next generation of sky dancers. Each hole is a portal to a home, each perch a threshold to the warmth within, and every departure and return is witnessed by the vigilant trees, the silent sentinels of the forest.
Lean-tos and birdhouses, these woodland shelters, are the chorus of the sylvan symphony, the unseen chords that bind human to habitat, life to life. They are proof that in the quiet places of the world, where humanity treads lightly and the wild holds sway, there can be a beautiful coexistence, a mutualistic masterpiece painted on the canvas of the wilderness. They stand as symbols of the beauty that arises from the marriage of function and form, purpose and aesthetic, the innate and the crafted.
In the woodland shelters, there is a rhapsody played in the key of nature—a song of simplicity, of connection, of the perpetual dance between the earth and its many children. It is here, in the lean-tos and birdhouses, that the heart of the woods beats strongest, beneath the watchful eyes of ancient trees and the endless sky.
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved MichaelStephenWills.com
Hartung–Boothroyd Observatory is a leading educational facility, aiding in the study of astrophysics, tracking asteroids, and fostering diverse academic collaborations.
Perched on Mount Pleasant in the town of Dryden, New York, the Hartung-Boothroyd Observatory (HBO) stands as a testament to the celestial curiosity that Cornell University has nurtured for decades. It is a gateway to the stars, a place where the heavens unfold in wondrous detail to the eyes of astrophiles and the lenses of powerful telescopes.
The observatory is home to a reflecting telescope, one of the largest in New York State dedicated to both education and research. This remarkable instrument, housed under a retractable dome, has provided students and researchers with direct experience in astronomical observations since its establishment in 1974.
HBO isn’t just an observatory; it is a bridge between the terrestrial and the cosmic. It represents an educational philosophy that values direct engagement with the subject of study. Undergraduates, graduates, and faculty members flock to the facility to engage in projects that range from studying variable stars and exoplanets to tracking asteroids. Here, theoretical astrophysics meets the tactile world, allowing for an integrated understanding of the universe’s complexities.
Are images are from a handheld Apple Iphone 14 ProMax, raw files edited on camera and then from Adobe Lightroom.
It is used mainly as a Cornell University (Ithaca, New York) teaching facility for upper-level astronomy classes. The observatory is named financial contributions of M. John Hartung ’08 (chemical industrialist and donor) and in honor of the labor of Samuel L. Boothroyd (founding professor and chairman of astronomy 1921–1942). The telescope construction began in the 1930s and the observatory was dedicated in 1974. It contains the James R. Houck 60 centimeter telescope and various instruments.
View east from Cornell University’s Hartung–Boothroyd Observatory
The James R. Houck telescope at HBO was a project initiated by its namesake in 1972, using optics and a lightweight tube which had been fabricated in the late 1930s by Samuel T. Boothroyd, Cornell’s first astronomer, and a mounting constructed by George Gull ’72 as his senior design thesis in Mechanical Engineering.
View southwest toward Ithaca College
The telescope, control electronics and instruments are largely the result of work done by undergraduates since 1970. It was manufactured by the students at the Tompkins, Tioga and Seneca BOCES and by Therm, Inc., with mirror coatings by Evaporated Metal Films corporation, all in Ithaca. The latter corporation was founded by members of Boothroyd’s scientific team, as he pioneered the use of evaporated metal coatings in astronomical optics. The telescope and observatory were dedicated in 1974.
View southwest toward Ithaca College I zoomed in to see the residential towers.
The primary mirror is made of Pyrex from the Corning Glass Works and is in fact from a 1/8-scale test pour by the Corning company in preparation for the making of the 200″ Palomar mirror. It is 0.635 m (25 inches) in size, but the outer half inch is masked. The focal length of the mirror is 2.5m (100″) or f/4.
View southeast toward Hammond Hill
The Cassegrain design of the James R. Houck telescope is a combination of a primary concave mirror and a secondary convex mirror, often used in optical telescopes, the main characteristic being that the optical path folds back onto itself, relative to the optical system’s primary mirror entrance aperture. This design puts the focal point at a convenient location behind the primary mirror and the convex secondary adds a telephoto effect creating a much longer focal length in a mechanically short system.
View south
The secondary is an 8″ mirror made of Cervit (a low thermal coefficient material). In combination with the primary, it yields a final f/13.5 beam to the nominal focus, which lies 18.5″ behind the primary mirror’s vertex. At nominal focus, the plate scale is about 24 arcsec/mm, with an effective focal length of 8.57 m.
View southwest toward Ithaca College
The telescope, control electronics and instruments are largely the result of work done by undergraduates since 1970. It was manufactured by the students at the Tompkins, Tioga and Seneca BOCES and by Therm, Inc., with mirror coatings by Evaporated Metal Films corporation, all in Ithaca. The latter corporation was founded by members of Boothroyd’s scientific team, as he pioneered the use of evaporated metal coatings in astronomical optics.
The dome itself, like all professional observatories, is unheated. The telescope and instrumentation can be controlled from a neighboring control room which is heated and offers standard amenities plus several computers for simultaneous data reduction.
The observatory was founded by James Houck and managed by him through 2006. The principal contact is Don Barry, who managed the facility from 2006-2015, and taught Experimental Astronomy using the facility.
“Graduates” of the HBO project are now senior engineers and technical managers as well as graduate students, research associates and faculty at major universities.
Moreover, the observatory is a beacon for interdisciplinary collaboration. It’s not uncommon to find astronomers working alongside computer scientists, engineers, and educators. This cross-pollination of ideas enhances the potential for innovation, fostering new techniques in data analysis, instrument design, and educational methods. The observatory’s role extends beyond its primary function; it is a hub of convergence for diverse academic disciplines, all under the umbrella of exploring the unknown.
HBO also contributes to the global astronomical community through its research. The data collected here feed into larger networks of observation and analysis, aiding in the collective endeavor of mapping and understanding the universe. Its strategic location in upstate New York, away from the light pollution of large urban centers, grants it relatively clear night skies, making it an invaluable resource for both optical astronomy and astrophotography.
In an era where space exploration has captured the public imagination like never before, observatories such as the Hartung-Boothroyd are more crucial than ever. They serve as terrestrial launchpads, propelling minds into the realm of scientific inquiry. Here, the vastness of space becomes approachable, the mechanics of the cosmos decipherable, and the mysteries of the universe a little less mysterious.
As the night falls and the stars emerge, the Hartung-Boothroyd Observatory continues its silent vigil over the heavens. It stands as a beacon of knowledge and discovery, an educational catalyst, and a gateway to the stars. For the students and astronomers who work from this dome on Mount Pleasant, HBO is more than an observatory—it is a vessel navigating the infinite ocean of the night sky, a journey that begins in the heart of Cornell University and extends to the edges of the observable universe.
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 