Driving from the Petrified Forest National Park my son, Sean, and I arrived at Chinle, Arizona the evening of Monday, November 2, 2003. No time to rest or eat after checking into the Best Western he and I reached the White House overlook and trail head with the sun low in the sky, the sun sets 6:45 pm these last few days of Daylight Savings. The Navajo Reservation observes Daylight Savings, so the click jumps crossing the border from Arizona to Reservation.
I was 50 at the time and with Sean graduated from SUNY Maritime and fresh from a tour at sea we made good time to the canyon floor. I wanted to catch the White House in the setting sun.
One morning, 14 years later, I published a fine art photograph from that trip.
Looking along the canyon, over thick stands of Russian Olives, I caught the risen moon, in gibbous phase, against a mid-canyon freestanding fin of red sandstone of the southern canyon wall. Today, those trees are gone, removed as an invasive species.
Rainwater from distant thunderstorms on the vast Colorado Plateau emerge from a cliff wall, Zion Canyon. The fall will last for a few hours, we bore lucky witness as do my images shared below.
1/15 sec at f/8.0 ISO 160
Captured with a Kodak DCS Pro SLE/c dslr and a Canon lens EF 200 mm 1:2.8 L II stabilized with the Manfrotto Studio Tripod model 475 and the 468 Hydrostatic ball head. I prefer the details of misting water at the widest lens aperture, focus is clear throughout the plane, excepting some foreground brush.
1/125 sec at f/2.8 ISO 160
Copyright 2021 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
One weekend my nephew Chris and I backpacked to Peaked Mountain Pond, the Adirondacks wilderness, in the rain. My son, Sean, was to meet us later. The constant rain made the easy trek into a slog. Our attitude improved after the tents setup and the fire. The skies clear to a brilliant display of the Milky Way away from light pollution.
Peaked Mountain in the light of an August dawn taken from the west pond shore. Siamese Ponds Wilderness, Adirondack Park, New York State. At 2,919 feet, Peaked Mountain is a modest height though it rises an impressive 675 feet in 0.4 mile.
Looking north across Peaked Mountain Pond from the west shore shortly after dawn.
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We used the canoe as a punt, using a solid branch to push around the shallow pond for short distances, after bailing.
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Mid-morning, we headed up the trail to the peak. I caught this orb-weaver spider web on the way.
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…and a detail. Technically, this is a macro. Did not wait around for the owner.
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Later, in the afternoon, Chris caught some Zzzzz’s in a time out from water gathering. We pumped water through a filter, this is necessary throughout New York State to avoid giardia infection.
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The ultimate in peace and tranquility, though disturbing a hornet pollinator can lead to excitement. This water lily bloom was caught with a tripod mounted long lens. Look closely for the hornet at work inside the flower. HHealthy water lily leaves are the epitome of tranquility because they are always clean, giving the illusion of tranquility. Scientists study water lily leaves to learn how the leaf surface sheds dirt. Imagine self-cleaning cloths.
Correction: it is the Lotus leaf, not lily pad, that is self cleaning.
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Browse my reasonably priced stock photography. This blog features seven (7) photographs I published today to Getty Istock and my Fine Art gallery.
Here in Ithaca we have a greenhouse specializing in orchids. Several years ago if visited and picked up several for my wife, Pam, as a present for our wedding anniversary. Pam’s orchids site in our east facing bay window. This Caladenia, or spider orchid, has bloomed several times under her care. This bloom was especially successful.
These flowers are an achievement. Caladenia are difficult to maintain and cultivate outside of their native environment. Most are endemic to Australia and New Zealand.
Copyright 2020 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Gulls, an omnipresent element of any beach stroll. Pestiferous, abounding and incessant the gull is simple to deal with. Keep any and all foodstuffs under wraps.
Conversely, for those who adore a crowd of raucous opportunists simply pull out the food and offer it to the air. There is more about this photograph at this post, “Lady Feeding Gulls, Cocoa Beach Dawn.”
Click any photograph for a larger view.
Beach Walking
Pam and I developed a habit of hanging out in Florida during Finger Lakes Winters when the gorges are closed for safety and even walking the streets is perilous, stray black ice encounters abound. We trade icy falls for beach walks.
It is natural to become inured to the flight of gulls along the shore. For all my carting along the Sony Alpha 700 with a variable lens ( 18 – 200 mm) there is not a single photograph of a gull in flight. Yet, I have my eye on them until my blindness was lifted by a peculiar individual. It seemed to be a white gull, yet it had a watchful eye.
Gliding shoreline parallel with head down, how could I have mistaken it for a gull?
Osprey occupy an environmental niche along 700,000+ shoreline miles worldwide as a single species Pandion haliaetus. A unique bird with its own family, Pandionidae, and genus, Pandion, some experts recognize sub-species in geographic regions. Ours is the Western Osprey.
The following photograph is of a wing shape very different from the gull.
Osprey Stalking Behavior
IPhone 8 always in my pocket, I captured this clip of an Osprey stalking fish in the Atlantic Ocean surf. You will have a better viewing experience by clicking on the title of the embedded YouTube, then click on the Full Screen icon at the lower right.
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We can roam the woods and gorges this time of year to find these wildflowers camouflaged in their young, green foliage. Here are two images from a June 3rd afternoon in Fillmore Glen with a waterfall. Enjoy!!
Brown dragon is an apt nickname for Jack-in-the-pulpit, captured here with Red Trillium on the forest floor of Fillmore Glen State Park. I was down in the mud for the closeup,
My third wilderness evening was unlike the others. I rested with an unhurried exploration of the camp area. Underfoot was a scatter of dry oak leaves, acorns on hardened desert soil not much softer than the numerous lichen encrusted boulders, all of which formed a bench above Pine Creek.
Pine Creek Camp Overview from a large lichen encrusted boulder
Pumping a gallon of drinking water though the ceramic filter takes more time than meal preparation. The four gallons I packed up were almost used and I enjoyed the luxury of pumping two days supply, 3 gallons in all and planned to down a quart or two of “gator aid” before dinner with the luxurious enjoyment of a flowing Pine Creek for company.
Pine Creek is the most common type for Arizona, recurring. To recur means to happen periodically or repeatedly and, for streams, this means for part of the year no water flows. For these days the flow was low, the water clear, what was left from the plentiful winter rains of 2004/2005.
Looking east toward Manzanita thickets with the unpacked backpack foreground
The wind gently rustled the manzanita and the sun just above the western cliffs as I settled on a boulder to enjoy a quart of fluid. I mulled over my next steps.
The kitchen: a very light gas burner, spork, dehydrated food with cup for beverages
Initially, the plan was to walk across the Superstition Wilderness, starting on the remote eastern end and emerging on the populated west side, in the Lost Dutchman State Park. My sister expected me there on day 10, but today was the end of day three. I didn’t know at that time the climb on my second day was the steepest of the wilderness and the way forward was much, much easier.
Looking west toward pine creek, manzanita branch foreground and thickets all round, young Ponderosa Pine, Arizona Oak behind tent.
Before a decision could be reach, my thoughts were broken by a different sound from the manzanita: several horses approaching on the trail.
Here is a photographic recap of the previous Superstition Wilderness postings as a gallery. You can page through the photographs.
View to the southwest on the Arizona Trail above Pine Creek.Pine Creek of the remote eastern Superstition Wilderness hosts this wild Tufted Evening Primrose.The Arizona Trail passes this spot in the remote eastern Superstition Wilderness. This is the view of my path up from Nameless Canyon. In the distance is the Four Peaks Wilderness Area.Superstition Wilderness, Arizona
Yesterday, I simultaneously published nine photographs on my ImageKind Ireland Gallery and Getty IStock (click the links to visit): nine views taken from the slopes of Slieve Gullion.
Sunday, May 25, 2014 was a happy day for Pam and I. It was the first full day of an eighteen (18) we filled with Ireland, travelling in a loop of the island following the coast from, naming the counties where we spent time on the ground, Louth, Armagh, Dublin, Meath, Wicklow, Cork, Kerry, Claire, Mayo, Antrim, Down and back to Louth. The counties of Northern Ireland are in italics. Indeed, at this time the politics allowed us to travel freely between the Republic and the North. That day, our morning was spent in Louth attending mass, enjoying our first meeting with the family over a substantial mid-day meal (click the link for my Facebook album of the meeting). We split off that afternoon to visit the home of my cousin, Mary and her husband Joseph in County Armagh, just over the border. When Joseph offered to drive us over to Slieve Gullion it was totally new to us, we had no conception of the place or what to expect.
It was such a gift, we are grateful to Joseph for this experience. Only in 2018 when, at 64 years of age and retired”, was I able to research the place and spend time developing the photographs for publication. Two of the photographs illustrate this posting, to view the others in my online gallery, click either photograph.
Slieve is the Irish language word for “mountain.” Slieve Gullion is a lone eminence, one remnant of volcanic eruptions about 60 million years ago during the rifting of continents that produced the Atlantic Ocean. Around the mountain is the Ring of Gullion, a string of hills, 26 miles by 11 miles, surrounding the mountain and formed from the ancient collapse of a volcanic caldera. The technical name for it is a Ring Dyke and it was the first of its kind to be recognized and mapped, well before the nature of the formation was understood of be volcanic. The name Gullion is derived, in one formulation, from the name of the metalsmith, Culann. In Irish Myth, Culann’s home and workshop was on the slope of Slieve Gullion. A wealthy and respected personage, Culann invited Conchobhar mac_Neasa, king of Ulster to feast. During his approach to the mountain, passing through the surrounding plain, the king stopped to watch boys play hurling. Among them was the future hero of Ulster, the young Sétanta. Impressed with Sétanta athletic abilities, the king invited him to join in the feasting at Culann and the boy promised to follow after the game. Later, while climbing the mountain to fulfill his promise Sétanta was attacked by the guard dog of Culann. The myth says the dog was killed by Sétanta in self-defense. Never the less, in compensation to Culann, Sétanta committed to rearing a replacement and to act as guard dog in the meantime. In this way he became known as Cu Culann, “the dog of Culann.” Click for more about Cu Culann.
On the summit two cairns north and south of a small lake, tangible proofs of ancient peoples and beliefs. The north cairn is a more ancient passage grave, 90 feet wide, 16 feet high, the opening aligned with the setting sun on the winter solstice. The cairn north of the lake is less ancient containing two cist burials. For our visit Joseph drove us along the 8 mile drive. The following is an image of a viewing platform and the road. Just beyond, on the right, where the ridge meets the road, is the trail to the 1,880 foot summit of Slieve Gullion. Our arrival disturbed sheep resting on the asphalt. I’d have loved to spent a day climbing the summit, but it was not to be this trip.
The way is part of the Slieve Gullion Forest Park. Throughout are turnoffs to admire the view. It was during our frequent stops I pulled out the photography gear to grab the views. Here is one, looking southwest. For the other views, click either photograph to visit my Online Gallery of Ireland.
Copyright 2021 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Compare these Arizona Sycamores with the struggling specimen from the last chapter, “A Peaceful Day at Pine Creek.” Many Sycamores such as this one flourish along Reavis Creek, a perennial stream of the eastern Superstition Wilderness. The drainage that feeds Pine Creek is far less acreage than that of Reavis Creek and, when the Pine Creek flow fades in the driest seasons, plants go into survival mode and halt growth and may even slough off limbs to conserve water.
These Sycamores grace a stream that seldom stops flowing, even in the driest of seasons. I had the good fortune to visit the Reavis valley of the Superstition Wilderness in November 2007, when these trees were at peak autumn foliage.
The tree requires a supply of water to thrive. This specimen demonstrates the species growth habit growing multiple trunks with a shape driven by water availability and the environmental context. The multiple trunks may be a desert survival mechanism. In dry periods a trunk or trunks are sloughed off to reduce moisture loss. This is why the Sycamore of “A Peaceful Day at Pine Creek” has a single trunk.”
To encounter a riparian space of the Arizona desert is a revelation, to progress from Sonoran desert spaces assailed by the breath of dry wind, to see the first signs of water in the distance as a welcome fluttering of leaves, to feel a welcome odor of water.
Yes, the first effect of a riparian space on the senses is the smell of water. Let’s finish this post with limbs of the Reavis Creek Arizona Sycamore reaching for the sky.
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