Seen Only on the West Coast—Madrona Tree

Not found anywhere near Pink Gardens!

My friend Bette shot these photographs of a Madrona tree (Arbutus menziesii) at the beach near her house in Seattle. I'd never heard of this species before she sent me the pics—apparently they're only found on the northwest coast—Washington, Oregon, Vancouver. It's gorgeous, ain't it! For the Wiki on them, click here.

Wonderful abstract created by peeling pieces of bark. The coloring is unexpected, too, inside and out.

Winter Light Arrives

Although the official starting date for winter is a few weeks away, I've noticed that the annual winter "lighting" has arrived. The sun is now lower in the sky at all times, hardly illuminating the backyard clothes line in the afternoon. Without leaves on the trees, more light reaches into the thickets and without the filtering of the tree canopy, shadows are harsher. Trees around Pink Gardens' yard were full of this winter light, yesterday. These stormy skies blew over without a drop of rain or wind, but I appreciated their depth of coloring and texture for these photos.

This huge Sycamore tree's whitish bark gleams in the afternoon sun, perfectly silhouetted in front of the gloomy skies.

A closer view of the top photo. The trees in the background were brightly lit at the same time the tree in front was shaded by the clouds.

A longer view of the Sycamore tree, above. It's the tallest tree in the yard, by far.

Sticks and Stones (and Leaves and Seaweed)

On my daily walks, I usually pick a "theme" to photograph that day, for example, rocks, trees, leaves, abstracts, houses, cars, wildflowers and the like. It gives me a focus and makes each walk around town just a bit different from the last. Above, a nice windy day created whitecaps as the waves neared the shoreline. The sounds of seagulls and the rushing waves was trance-inducing. These abstractions and closeups look great when enlarged. Just click on 'em.

Seaweed and algae clings to rocks frequently under water. This was shot at low tide, exposing more or the rock than most of the time.

Fall leaves catching the light just so. I know I once learned why some trees turn orange while others change to yellow or red, but I can't remember now... 

Different types of rock melded together. I'm guessing this process took place millions of years ago.

A lone sailboat enjoying a lazy September afternoon off the coast.

Small tidal pools are formed in the depressions in the rocks during low tide.

Fractures and cracks all along these impressively huge boulders and shoreline rocks.

Euonymous turning its eponymous Burning Bush firey magenta.

Slippery when wet!

One can imagine the extreme temperatures and forces that took place millions and millions of years ago to create these shoreline boulders. The glaciers thousands of years ago probably added to these strakes and grooves as they tore across the land.

This huge stone has an area of the Connecticut shoreline's famous pink granite blended right into the more common shoreline gray rock. My great-great-grandfather, John Beattie made his fortune quarrying this granite. His company was called Red Rocks and he supplied much of the stone for the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty, as well as almost every turn-of-the-century shoreline railroad bridge between New York and Maine. A bit about his 1899 funeral, here. And a few photos of the quarry workers, ca 1880s, here. My other great grandfather was a sculptor at the quarry.

I'm not sure what causes this oxidation on some of the stones. I'm guessing a higher iron content in these areas.

Reaching to the sky...

Erosion and water softens the harder edges on these boulders. How many hurricanes and dangerous galeforce storms have these rocks seen through the eons?

Glaciars left many huge rocks in odd places throughout New England. We had one ten times this size just sitting in the middle of a hill by itself at our family home.

Elephant skin or rocks, lol?

Seabirds frequently use shoreline rocks like these to drop their clam- and oyster-shells onto from the air to get at the gooey goodness inside.

A lone Winterberry tree ready to shed its leaves and show off why its named Winterberry.

Trillion-ton glaciers once inched along the Connecticut shoreline leaving behind these deep scars.

Some rocks show a more melted-looking visage.

A tight little cluster of early-turning autumn leaves. The rest of the tree caught up a few weeks later.

Busy Beauties: Roots, Trees, & Vines

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my American Friends!

Walking around town Land Trust property today, I shot tons of photos of the barren November trees and landscapes, vividly hung with vines like strings of Christmas lights gone awry. Very few leaves remain, but those that do are hardy and were all in the yellow/gold color range. 

I admit it, I'm not a minimalist in any way, shape or form. I like busy patterns. My art is very intricate and layered, my apartment hasn't a square inch of space that isn't holding a collectible or a piece of art, and I tend to wear plaid shirts with camouflage-patterned pants and striped socks. I have twenty-seven rugs in six rooms, and I actually feel nervous around cleanly styled, well-ordered spaces. I live and sleep with the television on in the background like white noise, with music softly playing simultaneously from my computer as I read or write. The only time I like it quiet is when I'm walking around outside. I like the sights and smells and sounds of nature, and have never used a Walkman or iPod. It doesn't matter if I'm just passing trees in the woods or crowds of people on a sidewalk, I enjoy hearing the actual world around me. I found solace today shooting these visual representations of the busy and intricate multi-layered thoughts running through my head on this crisp, late November afternoon. 

I hope you enjoy these busily beautiful images. They may be barren of life-sustaining leaves, but they're filled with wild abandon, unchained and unplugged, unapologetically willy-nilly. Like me! Please click on the images to see all of the details and lighting intricacies.

There are maps of freeways in Los Angeles that look just like this.

I see muscular arms wrapping around equally muscular bodies. Body-building Woodland Nymphs, lol?

The lighting in this shot is striking. The light-barked tree in the background had the sun directly shining on it, and the darker colored trees were shadowed, for a double-whammy of contrast. 

The red and yellow seed pods of this Bittersweet Vine, 100 feet in the air at the top of this tree, contrast beautifully with the deep Wedgewood blue sky and dark branches and limbs.

Thick rounded protuberances add a whimsical touch to this tree trunk. I think it was winking at me. Or burping.

Another example of lighting adding a great contrast to these different types of trees. The Bittersweet Vine highlighted two images above, can just be seen in the background at the top of the tree in the center of this photo. Snow White's Enchanted Forest?

This toppled tree's exposed roots have created a natural shelter underneath. The leaves are tamped down inside, almost nest-like. I'm sure that this is the equivalent of a Motel 6 for our animal friends. I might go back there with some of my garden gnomes and do a photoshoot of them hanging out under these roots and branches.

I never tire of trying to follow the swirls and whirls of vines and limbs. Nevah!

This photo looks like a Jackson Pollack painting to me. Maybe he was inspired by a long-ago November's Roots, Trees & Vines.