Step into the ancient world of Neolithic monuments and discover the astounding astronomical knowledge of our ancestors. Explore the Newgrange Lightbox in Ireland and similar marvels across Europe, revealing a deep connection between ancient peoples and the cosmos. Join me in unveiling these architectural wonders.
Discover the mysteries of the Newgrange monument’s Entrance Stone, a showcase of exquisite Neolithic rock art. Explore spirals, lozenges, and geometric designs that define European megalithic art and delve into their potential meanings and cultural significance. Join me in uncovering the secrets of this ancient Irish wonder.
through Devil’s Kitchen to Lucifer Falls
In this third part, we continue hiking Treman gorge, approaching Lucifer Falls, viewing another waterfall further downstream and returning to the trailhead.
I have never achieved a satisfactory capture of the waterfall in the Devil’s Kitchen, a place where the creek flow is diverted south by a projecting ridge. Less than 100 feet later the easterly direction is regained where the water plummets over Lucifer Falls.
The annual in fall of rock in Devil’s Kitchen uproots and crushes plants growing there. There is scant soil, the roots of this shiny purple trumpet bloom took hold in a microscopic crack. The plant is so thin, the flower so tiny it is lucky my gaze found it.
Click link for my fine art print “After the Rain: Showy Lady Slippers.”
After searching all my plant identification references, this plan is unknown to me. Please help with identification. The bloom is 1/4 inch long.
Not far away, these asters grow from a slightly wider crack. Pam pointed them out to me. I was drawn by the striking color difference of the heads growing from a single stalk.
Click link for my fine art print “Purple Asters.”
As trail winds around the ridge a stone wall rises on the right and for good reason. The stream shortly reaches the brink of Lucifer Falls, 115 feet high. Gorge walls fall away, the trail steepens. Here is the view from the trail next to the brink.
At hand, on the right, a growth of ferns has survived many seasons. Flowering plants are, in geological time (across billions of years), a relatively recent development compared to these non-flowering ferns. The first flowering plants appears 120 million years ago compared to the first ferns, 360 million years ago. Oddly enough, the spread of flowering plants affected evolution of ferns, an increase of fern speciation in parallel to the rise of flower plants.
While descending the stairs next to the falls brink, look to the right to see this ecosystem, a result of water seeping from the sedimentary rock stratification.
Here you can see how, at lower flow levels, the inactive sections of the fall lip become a garden. In our climate, the entire brink is active for rare and brief intervals during spring thaws. Note how, closer to the active brink, the grasses give way to mosses. Where grasses grow the brink is almost never active.
The trail wall is a lighter color than the cliff, this is how you can see, on the right, the steep trail descent.
Pam and I turned around here. This is some work I did August 2014 of a notable fall downstream from Lucifer. I used the 24 mm Canon lens here, cropping the image. My goal was to include the stair, for interest, with sunlight on the upper stairs; the water in shade.
Click link for my fine art print “Woodland Falls.”
Myrtle borders the trail as it rises from the gorge entrance.
Tree trunks fallen from the gorge walls are left to decay, restoring the soil. The trunks are covered by moss among a thick growth of myrtle and a few ferns.
To finish, here is an image that may broaden your understanding of sunflowers. These smaller, ornamental sunflowers are, at first, difficult to place. Look carefully at the center, composed of many tiny flowers (florets). In crop sunflowers each of these becomes a seed. In this image, shiny beetles are feasting.
Click me for more postings of Autumnal Beauty
Water runs through it
In part 2 of this series, we return to the starting point. Siting of a water mill requires immediate access to the potential energy of falling water, something called “head.” Upper Treman Park was once a prosperous hamlet with the mill as the kernel. Today, the head that drove the mill is a lovely cascade behind the substantial and intact mill building. Easy walking distance from parking, this is a well-known park feature.
Here are three versions of a portrait of Mill Falls using different lenses for varying effects. All were taken in the same season and approximate time of day, being early evening.
This is the uncropped image used in part 1 of this series. I found the secondary cascade a distraction. Exposure of the secondary is difficult to balance against the primary and more shaded primary.
Click link for “Mill Waterfall Primary Low Flow” fine art print.
Let’s return to where part 1 left off, the stone bridge across the eastern side of the gorge entrance gallery.
This segmental arch is an illusion, the beautiful stone work is the facing of the concrete structure that carries to load of the stone, itself and visitors.
My composition emphasizes the mass of rock wall above the bench and into which it is placed. The limestone slabs are from a different source, they are not built from the material removed from the cliff.
A dandelion on steroids. If you can help with identification of this plant, please post a comment.
Click Me for “Ad Astra” a fine art print, in my gallery.
Click Me for “Purple Asters” a fine art print, in my gallery.
Many first time visitors do not look back to appreciate these scene. When we give advice, our recommendation is to return on the same gorge trail. The different viewpoints make for a fresh experience.
They are like people, sitting there. Kenneth Graham’s genius, in writing “Wind in the Willows”, was to recognize the likable characteristics of the toad. I find myself concerned about their survival, although they must survive. Earlier in the season they are pea sized. I resist an inclination to move them to what may be a more promising location, preferably with a stone house and chrome brilliant motor car.
It started with running water…..
Over the weekend the handle of our 60 year old Delta brand kitchen faucet broke off, since we moved here I rebuilt it once and replaced the stainless steel sphere, the central control of the mechanism. The stem of the sphere must have been faulty because it snapped. Monday, I visited Lowes and the sphere was not in stock. Just wanting to fix the faucet, I skipped the usual vetting of a new product and grabbed the exact same Delta faucet which was, just like the sphere that broke, made in China. The next step up in (questionable) quality was three times the price.
Yesterday I installed a new faucet in the kitchen sink, a straightforward and unpleasant task that took most of the day. Late afternoon, while resting up, I brought up the idea of a hike and Pam reminded me we had another clear September day. Last week, I headed out to capture the Mill Creek waterfall of upper Treman Park at the perfect time of day. It was a day such as this, warm, a cloudless sky, minimal breeze.
I need to get in place a bit earlier. Previously, I used a 24 mm wide angle lens and, today, mounted the EF 70-300mm f/4 – 5.6L USM lens on the Canon EOS 1DS MarkIII. Did not have time to sort through the ND filters, so left the UV on. The waterfall is in a glen, shaded from direct light at this time of day, sun low in the west. Given the low light, to save time, I decided to set ISO to a low value (125), set lens to the widest angle (70 mm), and frame the shot using the heavy Manfrotto tripod with ball head.
Needed to crop the image for the above result, still not perfect. I am seeking to full the entire pool in that glow.
Instead of putting the gear away, I carried that heavy setup on the hike. The strap around the neck is a lot of stress if it hangs. With the gear cradled in the crook of my arm it is bearable.
Needless to say, the pace was sedate. Pam spent most of the time walking ahead and refusing to be in any shots. These past weeks, rainfall was light, so the creek is low. This low flow is a necessary element to a perfect waterfall image.
I get some great macro shots with that lens. With just the UV filter, it is quite fast.
A memorable feature of upper Treman Park is the dramatic gorge entrance. When the glaciers melted, 10,000+ years ago, enough water flowed through this watercourse to wear away several hundred feed of sedimentary rock to form a gallery, or hall, with towering, crumbling, walls on either side.
This evening the light was low, the water seemed dead in that it was clear and did not glisten or ripple. I used these conditions in the above shot to emphasize the structure this pool. Located at the foot of a waterfall, at high water, the falls fill channel and this pool is carved by river stones carried in the current. At lower water, the pool is exposed.
The footbridge, above, is most often photographed from the western side of a long gallery formed by the gorge carved by the creek. This is a shot that explores the fine stonework.
The post explores the symbolism of Lucifer and the Tiger Lily, suggesting that beauty and pride can lead to downfall, reminiscent of Lucifer’s narrative.
A reader’s comment to this blog, thank you “Urban Liaisons,” prompted me to explore the word, Lucifer. “Lucifer”, in Christian tradition, refers to the devil as it was in a time of glory before the fall from grace. The original, ancient meaning of Lucifer is the planet Venus as it rises just before the sun at dawn. In this sense, the name refers to the bright beauty of the spot. The effect is heightened at midday when the hiker passes from the relative gloom of Devils Kitchen to the full light and sweep of the waterfall chasm.
Standing next to the falls on the Gorge Trail, the stone wall of the Rim Trail Overlook is overpowered by the grandeur of the 300+ foot cliff. The falls photographs were taken from behind the wall.
Occasionally, we have experienced individuals climbing over the wall to stand on the other side. “Why?”
Summertime thick stands of tiger lilies flourish on the cliff face. Can you find the withered leaves?
I must delve into symbolic interpretations to explore the connection between Lucifer and the Tiger Lily. Lucifer, traditionally associated with rebellion and the fallen angel in Christian theology, symbolizes a break from divine order and beauty tainted by pride. On the other hand, the Tiger Lily is often seen as a symbol of wealth, pride, and prosperity in various cultures. The connection lies in the shared symbolism of pride and beauty. Just as Lucifer was a beautiful angel before his fall, the Tiger Lily is a strikingly beautiful flower, often associated with pride. This juxtaposition creates a metaphorical link, suggesting that beauty and pride, while alluring, can lead to downfall, mirroring Lucifer’s story.
This session I finally “cracked” the puzzle of the Devil’s Kitchen Waterfall. I posted the results to the online gallery yesterday, for your enjoyment. Click the link to go there.
Click link for my fine art print “Devils Kitchen.”
Ferns, ancient plants with unique reproduction strategies and ecological significance, adapt to diverse environments while contributing to overall biodiversity and human culture.
In the vast tapestry of the plant kingdom, ferns occupy a unique and enduring place. These ancient plants, often overlooked in favor of their flowering counterparts, have a fascinating and seemingly eternal existence that spans millions of years. Ferns, with their lush green fronds and distinctive reproductive mechanisms, offer us a glimpse into the enduring legacy of life on Earth and the remarkable adaptations that have allowed them to persist through the ages.
Ferns belong to the group of plants known as Pteridophytes, which evolved more than 360 million years ago during the late Devonian period. Their evolutionary history predates the appearance of flowering plants, making ferns some of the oldest living organisms on our planet. This remarkable longevity raises the question: how have ferns managed to survive and thrive for so long?
One key to the success of ferns lies in their unique reproductive strategy. Unlike flowering plants that produce seeds, ferns reproduce via spores. These small, dust-like structures contain the genetic material necessary for ferns to reproduce. When mature, ferns release spores into the environment, where they can be carried by the wind or water to new locations. Once a spore finds a suitable environment, it can germinate and develop into a new fern plant.
The spore-based reproduction of ferns is not only ancient but also highly efficient. It allows ferns to colonize diverse habitats, from moist, shaded forests to arid deserts. Additionally, ferns can form extensive networks of underground rhizomes, which are creeping stems that give rise to new fronds. This vegetative propagation further contributes to their resilience and adaptability.
Ferns have also developed a range of adaptations that enable them to thrive in various environmental conditions. Some fern species, such as the resurrection fern (Pleopeltis polypodioides), can endure extreme desiccation. When conditions are dry, these ferns curl up and appear dead, but they can quickly revive and unfurl their fronds when moisture returns. Backpacking through mountainous Arizona wilderness I encountered small ferns growing in the shade of rock ledges, maybe this was Phillips Cliff Fern (Woodsia phillipsii). My guide called it “Ridgeline Fern” and claimed it was important for desert survival, could be eaten in extremis situations. This remarkable ability to withstand drought and promote human survival is a testament to the tenacity and usefulness of ferns.
Another intriguing aspect of ferns is their mutualistic relationship with mycorrhizal fungi. These fungi form symbiotic associations with fern roots, aiding in nutrient absorption and enhancing the fern’s ability to thrive in nutrient-poor soils. This partnership has likely contributed to the fern’s ability to colonize a wide range of habitats and compete with other plant species.
While ferns have proven to be resilient survivors, they have also played a crucial role in shaping Earth’s ecosystems. Ferns are often early colonizers in disturbed or newly formed habitats, and their presence can help stabilize soils and create conditions suitable for the establishment of other plant species. In this way, ferns contribute to the ecological succession and overall biodiversity of ecosystems.
Beyond their ecological significance, ferns have captured the human imagination for centuries. Their delicate and intricate fronds have inspired art, literature, and even garden design. Many garden enthusiasts cultivate ferns for their ornamental beauty and unique charm.
In conclusion, the eternal life of ferns is a testament to the remarkable adaptability and resilience of these ancient plants. Their longevity, dating back millions of years, serves as a reminder of the enduring nature of life on Earth. Ferns have evolved unique reproductive strategies, adaptations to various environments, and mutualistic relationships that have allowed them to persist and thrive. Whether they are serving as pioneers in newly formed habitats or gracing our gardens with their elegance, ferns continue to capture our fascination and enrich the natural world. Their legacy reminds us of the intricate and interconnected web of life that has persisted on our planet through the ages.
The Newgrange facade and kerbstones consists of stones from various locations, believed to be transported by sea and river.
The Newgrange façade and entrance of today is a creation from the large quantity of small stones unearthed and conserved during excavation given form by a steel-reinforced concrete retention wall.
The brilliant white quartz cobblestones were collected from the Wicklow Mountains, 31 miles to the south. Our guide called them “sunstones” for the way they reflect sunlight. In the following photograph is white quartz, the same excavated 1967-1975 from the Newgrange site and incorporated into the facade, I collected from “Miners Way” along R756 (above Glendalough).
You can also see in these photographs dark rounded granodiorite cobbles from the Mourne Mountains, 31 miles to the north. Dark gabbro cobbles from the Cooley Mountains and banded siltstone from the shore at Carlingford Lough both locations on the Cooley Peninsula where my mother’s family still has farms.
The stones may have been transported to Newgrange by sea and up the River Boyne by fastening them to the underside of boats at low tide. None of the structural slabs were quarried, for they show signs of having been weathered naturally, so they must have been collected and then transported, largely uphill, to the Newgrange site. The granite basins found inside the chambers also came from the Mournes.
Geological analysis indicates that the thousands of pebbles that make up the cairn, which together would have weighed about 200,000 tons, came from the nearby river terraces of the Boyne. There is a large pond in this area that is believed to be the site quarried for the pebbles by the builders of Newgrange.
Most of the 547 slabs that make up the inner passage, chambers, and the outer kerbstones are greywacke. Some or all of them may have been brought from sites either 3 miles away or from the rocky beach at Clogherhead, County Louth, about 12 miles to the northeast.
Dragoon, not dragon
Dragoon Mountains of southeastern Arizona are named, not for the resemblance of this ridge to the back of a Dragon, but for a type of soldier trained for horseback riding and infantry. These were the U.S. troops sent to “pacify” the Chiricahua Apache homeland.
Understanding location lighting is a matter of experience and luck.
Cochise Stronghold campsites are on the eastern slope of the Dragoons, sheltering them from the late afternoon sun.
One this day in April I explored the trails until sunset and was lucky enough to be setup for the 14 minutes of that day when the light was absolutely perfect.
Lucky enough
Understanding location lighting is a matter of experience and luck.
Cochise Stronghold campsites are on the eastern slope of the Dragoons, sheltering them from the late afternoon sun.
One this day in April I explored the trails until sunset and was lucky enough to be setup for the 14 minutes of that day when the light was absolutely perfect.
These photographs are from two days spent at Cochise Stronghold, a part of the U.S. Forest Service Coronado Forest managed by Arizona State Parks located off the Interstate 10 East of Tucson between Benson and Wilcox.
This rugged natural fortress was, for some 15 years, the home and base of operations for the famed Chiricahua Apache Chief, Cochise. Cochise and about 1,000 of his followers, of whom some 250 were warriors, located here.
Born in present-day Arizona, Cochise led the Chiricahua band of the Apache tribe during a period of violent social upheaval. In 1850, the United States took control over the territory that today comprises Arizona and New Mexico. Not hostile to the whites at first, he kept peace with the Anglo-Americans until 1861, when he became their implacable foe because of the blunder of a young U.S. Army officer, Lt. George Bascom. In that year, Cochise and several of his relatives had gone to an encampment of soldiers in order to deny the accusation that they had abducted a child from a ranch. The boy was later proved to have been kidnapped by another band of Apaches.
During the parley, Cochise and his followers were ordered held as hostages by Bascom, but Cochise managed to escape almost immediately by cutting a hole in a tent. Bascom later ordered the other Apache hostages hanged, and the embittered Cochise joined forces with Mangas Coloradas, his father-in-law, in a guerrilla struggle against the American army and settlers. The capture and murder of Mangas Coloradas in 1863 left Cochise as the Apache war chief. The U.S. Army captured him in 1871 and prepared to transfer the Chiricahua to a reservation hundreds of miles away, but he escaped again and renewed the resistance campaign. The following year after negotiating a new treaty with the help of Thomas Jeffords, the band was allowed to stay in their homeland.
Cochise is reputed to have been a master strategist and leader who was never conquered in battle. He died peacefully on the newly formed Chiricahua reservation in 1874. His son, Taza succeeded him as chief. Upon his death, he was secretly buried somewhere in or near his impregnable fortress. The exact location has never been revealed or determined.
The town of Cochise, Cochise County, the renowned geological feature known as Cochise’s Head in the Chiricahua Mountains, and the Stronghold are all named in tribute to him.
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 