Newsletter
There can be something bewitching about pictographs or rock art. They exist all over the West. Some are more recent bordering on the historical while others reach back 10,000 years or more. The older ones are the most beguiling, at least to me. They all have this invitation to
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The heart that beats at night is blind It sees not out through open conscious eyes It sees the fragments the mind creates in its dreamings The madness, the fears, the pain, sorrow, joy, and happiness It beats to the sense of flying It flutters at the sensation of falling
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The desert’s silence is a multitude. That is the first thought on returning to the desert this evening from my mountain home. Mollie and I walk through the scattered sage in the high desert of southern Wyoming. The distance and silence seems to envelope every sound and draw it
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Ambition
GF500 f5.6
Some time back I purchased a rather absurd lens; a 500mm f5.6 monster. Obstensively, to add a new angle to my landscape photography. I shoot a lot of intimate landscape and that lends itself to a longer lens. Some time ago asked what focal length one would shoot for
Newsletter
This reminded me of when I lived in San Diego. We had a pair of sharp shinned hawks in the neighborhood. Their were small dense trees in our backyard the sparrows would congregate in. They would chatter excitedly when the hawks were around. The hawks had this perfect teamwork. The
Rio Grande
We have met our friends and together we setup our respective camps perched on the pinion-juniper-sage desert rim of basalt above the Rio Grande. Here the river runs straight south in a gorge it carved deeply into the basalt plateau. Behind us are the Sangre De Cristo mountains.
Colorado
Dolores means sorrow and for this river one can feel it. We camped along its tepid shores this evening under the sycamore maples with strange bird song and the sound of the river through the underbrush. High above us rise rugged rocky red canyon walls that reflect the light from
GF500 f5.6
As May has now ended I feel I should give some report of spring here in the Idaho Panhandle. At least my impression. It was drier than I remember in the past few years. The lupins seem more numerous and even now are blazing the south facing hillsides. Flowers are
GF500 f5.6
As Mollie and I left the car park to walk the track on the edge of the meadow, I could hear the staccato call of the Pileated Woodpecker. Similar to the Northern Flicker, it tends to be shorter and a little deeper to my ear. We walked the path which
GF500 f5.6
They never-tell
GF500 f5.6
Spring this year is lovely, strange, and worrying. We have had a spate of warm sunny days (not unwelcome) but very little of the characteristic long rainy days. Lovely weather to be out in and I have gotten much work done outdoors. It is a portent for a dry summer