My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, coffee life, spirituality and the mystery of it all.
As I looked out across the meadow at Reservoir Ridge Natural Area on Saturday evening I was struck by the shape and contrast in the clouds, so I decided to take a photo. By the time I had gotten the camera out, nature continued its art of creation and added a touch of pink to the image, just for me. Then in a matter of 2-3 minutes it was gone.
Generally speaking, I’m not one to advocate photographic rules, but I do think it helps to take off the lens cap.
Catherine Jo Morgan
The above image says a lot about my life/lifestyle. I use both a camera and a journal to record what I see and what I experience around me. I have carried both for many years on a daily basis. I enjoy the feel of both when they are in my hands. Both are an art form and require some skill in using them. We only get better when we practice them regularly. I thought the above quote was comical and is true for both the camera and the fountain pen. 😂
A photo and excerpt from my journal this past July:
Tuesday morning at Pineridge Natural Area. Sun just rose on an almost cloudless horizon. Our meadowlarks sing joyfully. Thank you! Bless this day. Love the birds. I awoke early this morning so had a short night of sleep and may need a power nap later today. The sun is a blinding bright orange orb. It will soon heat up this July day. It is a glorious time of the day for me. My young friend, Kate’s car is here, so she is already up on Viewpoint Spur practicing her morning yoga/meditation. It is also a glorious time of the day for her. This is a sacred place for many. Yet, even in this sacredness I find my mind wandering away to the busyness of the day, fretting, planning and no longer present to the sounds and beauty of creation. I take a deep breath and return. I believe these mornings transform the core of who I am and is an integral part of my own evolution, becoming who I was created to be. A process I will continue to take until my final breath.
ms
Bison are so iconic of Yellowstone National Park, and the Black Hills. They appear peaceful, unconcerned, even lazy, as in this image, yet they may attack anything, often without warning or apparent reason. They can move at speeds up to 35 mph and cover long distances at a lumbering gallop. So make sure you can outrun the person you are with! As I look at this image I wonder how many photographs have been taken of this bison.
This was taken north of Rock Springs, Wyoming along US Highway 191 on my trip to West Yellowstone last month. A lot of open sagebrush, no trees and almost endless blue sky. You can see for miles and the sagebrush dominates the landscape. You may look at this and think of it as a barren and desolate place, especially if you’re from anywhere east of the Mississippi where trees abound. And when you stop to take in this view you won’t believe the silence that surrounds you. But, even though it is a rugged and harsh environment what you see is a complex of ecosystem. These sagebrush ecosystems provide important food and cover for mammals, birds, reptiles and amphibians, and especially winter habitat for big game species and other wildlife. So probably somewhere in this image is a Black-footed Ferret, Great Basin Gopher Snake, White-tailed Prairie Dog, Greater Short-horned Lizard, Red-tailed hawk or Sage Thrasher. And trust me, somewhere in there is an ant or two or three…
Leaves have begun changing colors and are making their end of life journey to blanket the ground with their colors. Canada Geese are loudly flying in formation as they return for the fall and winter months. Mornings are becoming cooler and the heavy dew will be turning to frost soon. The sun has begun to rise farther south on the horizon, and later, signifying the season of shorter days. Jackets will come out of the closets to help us face those brisk mornings. Homes will begin to fill with the aroma of steaming pots of chilli soup to enjoy on cold evenings. All signs that the change of seasons is upon us.
A good photograph will prove to the viewer how little our eyes permit us to see. Most people, really, don’t see—see only what they have always seen and what they expect to see—where a photographer, if he’s good, will see everything. And better if he sees things he doesn’t expect to see.
Leon Levinstein
A light rain or drizzle dominated most of yesterday. It made my 54th class reunion picnic a bit cold and damp. A good time was had but I was still chilled a couple hours afterwards. Clear skies and sunshine this morning. The red fescue grass was bowing down from the weight of glistening raindrops begging to be seen and photographed.
You recognize your God as everyone’s God. And not only among Jews and Christians and Muslims do you see the reflected face of the One. When the climber reaches the summit and gazes out at a thousand miles of mountains and valleys, there is the One. When the mother pushes through shattering pain to give birth, and the infant sucks in his first breath and expels his wild wail, there is the One. When the father drops to his knees in the military cemetery after burying his son and wraps his arms around his own heaving chest, there is the One. In our first kiss, in our final embrace, there is the One.
Mirabai Starr
The One shows up in Native lodges and Hindu temples, in the deep quiet of Zen meditation halls and in the ecstatic whirling of dervishes. The One whispers through the words of the poets, through the curving lines of painters, sculptors, and woodcarvers; through symphony and hip-hop, Gregorian chant, hymns in praise of Mother Mary, devotional songs to Lord Shiva; through tobacco and cornmeal offered at dawn to the Great Spirit. The One makes an appearance in the heart of the self-described atheist, who gasps in wonder at the beauty of an unexpected snow that fell during the night, carpeting the garden with jewels of frozen light. The One reveals itself as the compassionate Father and the protective Mother, as unrequited Lover and loyal Friend, residing always at the core of our own hearts, and utterly invisible. The One transcends all form, all description, all theory, categorically refusing to be defined or confined by our human impulse to unlock the Mystery. And the One resides at the center of all that is, ever-present and totally available. You remember, and forget, and remember again: beckoned with a thousand names, limited by none, the God you love is One.
The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white. Neither need you do anything but be yourself.
Lao Tzu
Rode the bus and then walked to a coffee shop. I found this yellow daisy among the smaller white flowers and needed to accept the gift of this image. A light rain fell last night. It is cloudy and cool this morning. We may see rain this evening and into tomorrow. Hoping so! May you enjoy your day and be yourself.
One thing I noticed while on this trip to Yellowstone was how clear and clean the waters were. This was true of both lakes and rivers. Big Springs is a first-magnitude spring located in Island Park, Idaho in Fremont County. It produces over 120 million gallons of water each day. Looking into that spring water was breathtaking, it was so clear. The spring is also famous for its large rainbow trout which congregate at the foot of the bridge waiting to be fed by the tourists. And no fishing allowed. We didn’t feed them but took it all in. The above image is along the shoreline of Lewis Lake in Yellowstone National Park. You can still see the bottom 15 feet from shore. The bottom image is of one of the rainbow trout taken from the bridge at Big Springs.
