Birds, Bees, lots of Flowers, and Trees II

Part II

My first morning at Chaco Canyon I was walking from the visitor’s center to Una Vida ruins a few hundred yards away. A silver sheet of stratus clouds covered the sky. The clouds retained brightness and were not thick enough to turn the undersides dark. The light was flat and all of the colors held their own intensity, none demanding more attention with showy sunny brightness. I kept looking at the plants as I walked. The colors, muted as they were, seemed to be glowing to the point of vibrating – at times. It was incredible, and of course didn’t translate photographically. After about half an hour I realized I needed to tip my head forward enough for the brim of my hat to cut out the sky for the affect to be detectable.


A similar thing happened to me at the Grand Canyon in similar light, where if I blocked the sky at the horizon the whole canyon took on a flat, muted look. Blocking the sky also had the effect of reducing apparent visual distance, meaning the layers of the canyon became compressed and at times it appeared as if I were looking at a two dimensional print and not the real place.

adjacency2

The affect, known as the adjacency affect is a phenomenon in the brain when a large area of bright is placed next to a large area of dark. The juxtaposition of the two create a lightness on the adjacent dark and a darkness on the adjacent light along their common border. The same effect occurs with colors, not just tones. With colors one will affect perception of the other by affecting its hue or tone. You can see this in the image above where the central color is exactly the same, but the adjacent color affects our perception of it, changing its appearance and vice versa. The colors in the center of the boxes are exactly the same. This can be tested with a color picker in a graphics program.

In Chaco it was the color affect. If the sky was in my view it sucked intensity from the colors of the bushes. If I tipped my head bringing my hat brim down to block the sky, the affect occurred. None of the colors was actually changing only my perception of them.

This concept was used by photo engineers when designing software to sharpen images. Overdone digitally it causes the ghosting you see on badly processed jpg files.


Once I got away from the Colorado Plateau deserts and into the Rockies proper the Earth served up a different stew plant wise, thicker and more diverse in size and color. Here there was more complete ground cover. Unless heavily trampled the ground is a confusion of flowers, short shrubs, tree seedlings, and the occasional berry bush when near moisture. Where the pine trees have been burned or logged the absence of a tree canopy opens up the sky. This allows the Aspen (poplars) to take hold. In the burned areas along the road to the Walhalla Plateau the immature Aspen are so thick on the slopes you can’t see the ground in places. And, this is before they have begun to bud and leaf.

I read where an aspen will seldom stand alone, if there is one there will be many. It was recently discovered that akin to cattails and creosote, the Aspen groves you see are likely all one organism. They are attached to one another through their roots system and sent up shoots as the roots spread. One tree can share excess nutrients with a neighbor if need be. All members of an organism will leaf out in concert, while a neighboring organism may wait some time before leafing. Two organisms growing in close proximity or even overlapping will leaf out separately. It may be that many tree species act similarly.

In the Craters of the Moon National Monument and Preserve, hills are mostly cinder cones of volcanic pumice. Each spring these black hills take on color. Many of the hillsides become purple. Among others, the Dwarf Monkeyflower is the main culprit. Mixed in you will discover many white to pink or orange Dwarf Buckwheat flowers. These have a root system that spreads as much as 3 feet for a six inch wide flower bunch. In affect they take over a wide area from which to collect their moisture. This prevents other Dwarf Buckwheats from growing on their turf. According to one of rangers, people have asked if the Buckwheats had been hand planted because of the lack of bunching that is seen in other flowers. At least 50 species of wildflowers exist here, I couldn’t find a definitive number. Keep in mind these diminutive plants are adapted to the 150 degree plus temperatures existing on the ground in the hottest seasons.

Near Glacier National Park I saw what I thought might be an eagle’s nest along the shore of Hungry Horse Reservoir. Using my 70-200 mm lens I was able to get photos of an adult bird landing on the nest. The next morning I stopped again and took some shots with the 1.4 Adapter on the lens. This took my maximum telephoto out to 280mm. This allowed me a bit more leeway with cropping which I had to do for the photo to work. The images here are cropped to less than 10% of the entire frame. With that done I was able to ID the bird as an Osprey through the identifying traits of the under-wing pattern and the Bart Simpson haircut. You can see the two young birds in the image on the right.

Field of Wildflowers, Glacier National Park, MT.

Field of wildflowers below Mt. Altyn near Many Glacier, on the east slope of Glacier National Park, MT

The east side of Glacier National Park was the high point of flowers, most notable for the concentration of wildflowers on the slopes in the Many Glacier area. Underfoot was a semi firm mat of decaying stalks, roots, and blossom petals. If you were to fall down it would feel as if falling on a firm couch, assuming you didn’t land on wild roses. Stopping at a trail head I took time to wander in the field. I took in the dense dance of color as hikers, and two wranglers with a string of 12 horses and occupants, came and went along the trail. No one commented on the wildflowers. I don’t understand how they could ignore them. The trail wound through the spectacle for nearly 1/2 mile. I picked out an area approximately 100 feet square and started photographing the separate species. I found 20 different types when I reviewed the day’s photographs. Frankly this was among the most gratifying stops I have made on my journey to date.

I am forced to be thinking of the future somewhat. I will likely lag in the north until I am uncomfortable enough with the season that the long trek to the south becomes a necessity. But there is a next year. And I will again have to decide a path, or at least a direction. Following the wildflowers will be on the list of possibilities.

 

Birds, Bees, lots of Flowers, and Trees I

Listening to: Le Sacre du Printemp (The Rights of Spring), Igor Stravinsky. This ballet music actually caused riots in the concert hall when first performed. It dragged the music world into modernism, just as Picasso did for painting. In the US it was Photographer Edward Steiglitz (later to marry Georgia O’Keefe) to bring Modernism to the American consciousness at the Armory Show. There was a segment on “Radio Lab” a couple of years ago about the riot incident at the first performance of the music.

Reading: Narrative of the Coronado Expedition, Pedro de Castaneda de Najera. English translation by George P. Hammond, 1940. Finished today.

Part 1 of 2

Living in a city/town of enough people, even if in a rural area, you won’t see nature cycling. Blinded by the day to day, her ordinary progression is hidden in all but the trees and clouds. If you are lucky enough to see spring flowers, they were probably nursery raised and potted for a seasonal maintenance contract. What you don’t get to see is tiny life working its way through the surface of the soil merely hours after a light rain. You don’t see the grasses grow from 1 or 2 inches height one day to 4 or 5 inches the next, and you don’t see the buds appear at the twig tips of the trees. Their obviousness isn’t apparent until the blossoms and leaves begin to crowd the hollows created by the previous year’s leaf fall.

I began my galavant in January and having spent the first 8 weeks in an area of mostly Creosote, some unidentified flora, and a few cacti, I wasn’t really treated to any bits-o-the-bloom there until early March when there was a short, light rain. The rain wasn’t more than a friendly wet dusting of the earth with obese drops. It was never enough of a rain to require formal rainwear, but was sufficient to dampen the earth without mudding. The clouds sped away as fast as they had come, both events bracketed by warm sunshine and a breeze. An hour after the clouds set off to the north-west, an anomaly, the ground had dried and even the odor of rain in the ground had evaporated.

Ocotillo in Bloom

Ocotillo in Bloom, Senator Wash. Imperial Dam, CA.

IMG_2890.jpgTwo days later I wanted to explore another camping area run by BLM on the Senator Wash Reservoir. The area was hilly and choked with more Creosote and unidentified flora. Taking a “long-cut” out of the wash I chanced on an Ocotillo, in bloom. I would occasionally find an Ocotillo alone on the side of a ridge. But they had all been in the thorny annoyance stage with no active buds or blossoms.

Ocotillo are not a cacti but a woody shrub. Their stalks can be almost chartreuse in color, and during a wet period will grow leaves at the base of the thorns. I was able to see this up close in the week I spent in the Sonora Desert without a camera. I will likely spend time in the Sonora this coming winter. Regardless, close inspection of an Ocotillo earns you sharp rewards.

One of my interests in the Ocotillo blossoms was as a food source. The dried blossoms can be infused into a tea. I later read that the blossoms will excrete glucose which crystalizes as a sweet clear nodule on the blossoms, these I didn’t see. The blossoms may be eaten directly or stored for later. I read of no medicinal use. I did try eating a blossom, it was mild but uneventful.

This past week I have spent time at the Lee Metcalf national Wildlife Refuge, near Stevensville, MT. While hunting for the not-so-illusive golden dragonfly below I noted a couple of small clear drops hanging off what I believe was Bunch Wheat Grass buds along one of the paths. Recalling the Ocotillo, and me being me, I tasted it. My guess is it was glucose, quite sweet and sticky. I knew that glucose was a byproduct of photosynthesis but I didn’t imagine it being excreted by the grasses. To get any quantity would be a chore, I only saw it on a couple flower heads.

Two Bugs and Five Petals.

Two Bugs and Five Petals in Violet, Silver Creek Preserve, Picabo, ID

I am interested in all food sources that the land serves up, I have been sampling as I go. It is an extension of my interest in what knowledge disappeared when the Spanish and other Europeans systematically de-cultured the Americas. Spaniards, some conquistadors (Bernal Dias del Castillo, Pedro de Cieza de Leon), did write about their experiences or the process of conquest from a first party ethnographic view. Many of these authors (in translation and available at archive.org) give the reader glimpses of how the aboriginals (American Indians) lived and what they could accomplish without the benefit of iron and gunpowder. The problem is that most of the authors never looked into the how and why of Indian practices, so we are left with no knowledge of processes and procedures. As a result academics and amateurs have struggled to learn what is known today as “Ancient” or “Traditional Skills.” The question left over is, “What is it that we don’t know? “

Two Bugs Boinking.

Two Bugs Boinking, Craters of the Moon National Monument, ID.

There have been flowers blooming everywhere I have been. Many of them are almost undetectable they are so small. Most of the blossoms in the desert have been from ground shrubs growing close to the surface up to maybe 4 feet high. The large majority of these had blossoms that were tiny, less than ¼ inch in size, think Babies Breath. On some shrubs the leaves are covered in fine fuzz. The fuzz helps retain moisture by creating a thermal blanket, cooling the leaves in the hot climates. Others had very thick and spongy leaves, similar to a succulent, though the skin on the leaves was quite tough almost leathery.

The coloration of the plant life in the deserts was mostly muted, subdued tones of greys, greens, yellows, browns, red, and blacks. The only bright colors were blossoms. The most brilliant were the Claret Cup Cactus (Kingcup cactus, Mojave Mound Cactus). With their yellow stigma on the pistil and multiple anther on the stamen.

Purple flowers at White Sands

Possible member of the Geranium family growing in the gypsum sands of White Sands national Monument.

Flora, Fauna, and Updating.

I am spending my time on organizing my photography data. I upgraded to the latest version of Lightroom, converted 3 old catalogs to the new version, and classified all of them. I am also having to categorize, tag, and title any photos I publish. If it is published I re-visit the image to check that it is spotted, sharpened and overall appears as I want it to look. This has taken about a weeks work time and away from adding to this blog. On a scale of importance, shooting rates one step higher than the blog.

Click on any file to see a larger version.

I have also been spending time shooting at a the Lee Metcalf National Wildlife Refuge (above) in Montana. A few birds co-operated (see the owls), as did a number of leaves and blossoms. The whole world around here is studded with wildflowers. I haven’t found an area without blossoms since leaving the Yuma area. The east slope of Glacier National Park was particularly impressive. The lower alpine slopes were covered in thick carpets of colors. In 45 minutes I photographed around 20 different species in a 10 yard square area.

I am 2 or 3 days away from the Lightroom conversion from being fully functional. I still need to make the input presets and take a look at the new profiles they featured with the latest update. Last I will create a new catalogs of 5 star and 4 star images so they are easier to access for exports.

If all goes well I will be back to writing by the beginning of next week and will finish at least one of the blog pages I have started.

 

What Has Been Learned

I have wanted to write about what I am doing but couldn’t come up with a structure that was more than just a running dialogue of my thoughts and travels. I felt that would be extremely boring to others and to myself. Then I took some time to reflect on those things that intrigued, fascinated and interested me the most. Each of the events or facts or actions were learning experiences, some quite mundane, others highly absorbing.

So now that I have a theme, the question remains, “What has been learned?”

Burros and Dead Coyotes.

There are a couple of roads that lead out of the back end of the Imperial LTVA. One goes west toward the Picacho Wilderness area. The other has a sign stating Imperial National Wildlife Refuge, so I head toward it. The map shows wildlife sanctuaries along the nearly 90 mile stretch of the Colorado River between the Imperial Dam and the I-10 crossing at Blyth. About 5 miles out I cross a ridge onto a flat. As I am coming down the grade I see something that appears foreign to its place about ½ mile away. I am moving slowly due to the rough road and keep an eye on it as I pull even to it. At this point even though I am within about 300 yards it looks like a life sized stuffed zebra standing in the flat. It hasn’t moved so I suspect it could be a decoy. But why? Looking at the tracks in the road the only thing to pass this way in the past day or two was a motorcycle and I don’t see track leading toward where the “Zebra” is.

The

The “Zebra” burro.

I slow to a stop and get out to take photos. I am convinced it has to be a burro, their prints are all over the washes and I can occasionally hear them in the early morning, but it still hasn’t moved. I take a few slow steps toward it and I hear a sort of grunt. It has to be from the burro but the noise came from the north and the burro is to my west. Looking to the north I see another burro dead still on a rise in front of some bushes in a gully. I make some tsk noises and this time the burro to the west grunts.The “Zebra” Burro. I walk slowly to the west, but at about a 20 degree north of where the animal is. I also keep my head facing the same direction I am walking and avoid turning my head in its direction. Once I get to about 250 yards from the animal it begins to walk away from me. I stop and whistle. It stops and turns around. I manage to get another 25 yards on it before it turns and walks away again. By now the second burro is also moving, parallel to its friend along a small rise.

The second burro.

The second burro.

I keep trying to gain ground on the original burro so it is larger in the telephoto lens on my camera. Even at full magnification it is extremely small in the frame. The burro keeps its distance and then fades behind the end of a small ridge and out of sight. The second burro has disappeared into a wash. I learn that they must have tremendous eye sight and probably great hearing because they spotted me before I spotted them at a half mile distance.

Both animals looked quite healthy, I saw no ribs sticking through the skin. Both were mostly reddish grey with white on the belly. the second burro is a bit darker grey.

I went back to the truck and continued on, seeing no other animals. A spur road turned toward the river and then came across a rise where I could see a resort on the Arizona side of the river. There were a couple of boats making their way through a labyrinth of channels leading to a “lake” and up river. One boat was your typical bass fishing boat. The other was a sort of tour boat with about 10 people aboard. The spur then turned north to a dead-end right at the water.

As I pull into the dirt parking area I see a bare patch of ground rising between the masses of thin bamboo that lines the river. On bare ground leading into the interior desert lies a dead coyote. I know it is dead because it is lying with its hind end high and its nose lowest on the small rise. It is in a beautiful winter coat, creamy white belly with grey and golden tips on the guard hairs. The coat is full, fluffy and luxurious.

I get out and walk up to it and wonder how long ago it died. At first there were no visible signs but as I walk around to the belly side I can see some entrails just barely showing under the fur of its left side. It has been gut shot and left to die. There were no flies or other bugs working on it so I felt it was a fresh kill. I used a stick to try to turn it over but the animal was too heavy. I then used my boot to try to turn it over by a leg. The leg was stiff, as was the body, and it would have rolled easily but when I saw it was in rigor I let it back down. This led me to believe the animal was probably shot within 4-8 hours of my arrival at around 10AM. Rigor Mortis begins to set in a human between 8 and 12 hours at room temperatures. Heat will accelerate the process. My estimate is based upon a smaller organism and a hot morning. Had it been longer, for instance overnight, the body would have bloated.

The dead coyote.

The dead coyote.

I had seriously considered relieving the animal of its gorgeous coat until I saw the entrails. That would have meant a gaping hole in the pelt. As I was leaving I thought of taking the tail. That would be easy and there would be no tanning needed. Then I remembered I was in California and didn’t have a hunting license. To harvest any part of any animal, game or otherwise, you need to have a hunting license. Even on road kill.

In my opinion it was a wanton, wasteful kill. This animal was performing it’s role within it’s niche in Nature. There are no farms, ranches or other sources of human interactions within 5 miles of the location on the California side. If the animal could make it across to the Arizona side it would have to navigate a maze of channels, cattails, bamboo, reeds, and a long swim.

That was such a beautiful coat.

The Journey Begins

The date is a lie. The cake is a lie.

The journey began on January 20, 2018 at about 1:30 PM.

Everything is either trashed or given away. What remains takes up less than 1/3 of a 10X10 storage unit. These things are targeted to give to certain people or bequeathed to someone. Whittling down your belongings after 60+ years of collection was actually quite liberating. The first run to the disposal facility was the hardest. It took an hour to toss everything out of the truck because I kept vacillating on toss or keep. It all got tossed. The second trip took 20 minutes to empty the truck. NO vacillation, cutthroat clearance, everything is free to the facility floor.

IMG_5887 (2)

Aside from the items in the storage, everything I own in the world is either in a bank or a somewhat customized 6X12 foot V-Nose cargo trailer. I have given it the name “Gadget”. The tow vehicle is still unnamed after 12 years, it is just the “truck.” The capitalization in the names does not indicate status of importance. That is a moving target depending on where I am sitting at the moment.

A Flat White (wow, I got 3 hugs leaving there), gas, and I’m gone. Bye-bye Redding. Parting is no sorrow.

As I pull onto the I-5 ramp I feel as though my entrails are being dragged out of the back of the truck – nagging doubt. Oddly, the road in front of me seems to be filling my body with new ones – faith and hope.

I am not prone to demonstrative behavior, but I let out a long throat burning roar and a smile.