Yet another image from Muir Woods: when you’re faced with such beauty, how do you say something that hasn’t been said before? Maybe some pictures don’t need text accompaniment.
Tag: Creek
Bend in the Creek
Muir woods, especially on a day with a bit of a drizzle, reminds me an awful lot of the good old pacific northwest.
Quiet Kill
The “real-world Zen garden” effect of northwestern Connecticut at the end of November was just the calming experience I needed: after a busy semester, stopping for a moment by the edge of slow stream, standing among the red, crinkly fallen leaves and short grasses, and feeling the wind lift puffs of snow from the rocks to my face.
Snow on Salmon Kill
Thanksgiving is around the corner, and New England has equilibrated to early-winter leafless distributions. On a morning coffee-and-breakfast-sandwich run, snow encrusted rocks form the boundaries of a real-world Zen garden.
Falltop Pebbles
Waterfalls don’t necessarily have the same impressive drama from the top, but they present another kind of wonder: the calm, burbling stream that disappears to infinity, replaced by the view of a sylvan landscape beyond. The pebbles and the trees contrast in lengthscale dramatically, but they all “belong” here.
The Perfect Summer Afternoon
I cooked up a bonus Sunday post: from the same waterfall on Mt. Riga where I took last week’s picture,another shot of the lovely swimming hole (and perhaps a broader perspective on what makes it such an incredibly lovely place to relax on a muggy summer afternoon.)
Mt. Riga Falls
Here is your intrepid photographer (a.k.a. me), standing at the foot of a lovely waterfall on Mt. Riga. Near the summer solstice, on the perfect warm and breezy day, we paused here just long enough to take a few shots before we dove into the natural pool beneath the falls.
Outbuilding in Red
In the dead of winter, the rocks and trees and streams of northwestern Connecticut are a textured but monotone canvas. In this photograph, I’ve only exaggerated the stark difference between the dormant surroundings and the bright red of the small barn-like structure perched at the creekside.
American Zen
Muir Woods astonishes and tempers with its beauty, but I had trouble avoiding the feeling that it was all a bit manicured and controlled by man. At first, that disappointed me. When I thought back to some of the gorgeous Zen gardens I’ve visited, however, I realized that curated natural beauty can be just as spectacular and authentic as true wilderness. The gentle drizzle between sequoias and down into the creek is the American version of the Zen garden.
I Swear It Was Bigger…
My brother stands on the bridge over the creek behind our childhood home. Inside all of those prepositions is the feeling that it used to be so much larger, grander, and more exciting when we were kids. Though we used to make whole forts under the bridge, we now barely fit.
Wachocostinook Brook After the Snow
This brook runs behind my childhood home; today, I present it to you as I remember it. Smooth currents of dark, freezing water (even in the summer), and the entrancing mishmash of old stones and roots encrusted with snow. No video game tops the pleasure of watching a leaf drift downstream.
Double feature: Frozen Stream
On the same European adventure to the alpine village of Obergurgl in Tyrol, Austria, I was out for a walk when I captured this shot of a creek running near the village in the process of freezing over. The ice is interesting to look at but the semi-abandoned outbuilding on the bank. It doesn’t appear to be in active service, as evidenced by the partially ajar door, nor is there an obvious way to get down to the entrance, though perhaps without the snow and ice there’s path down the cliff face or maybe even some sort of connection to a cave in the cliff. One can only guess at what function this building does or once did serve.
An Atavistic Collection
This weekend, I finally conquered a serious challenge: organizing my ancient photo collection. As I went through it, I found some photographs from almost a decade ago. Unfortunately, they weren’t taken with a DSLR, but I’m presenting them here as a taste of compositions, colors, and places that aren’t otherwise found on Decaseconds that frequently. With no further ado:
This is the creek, behind my childhood home, where I spent countless hours building castles, bridges, and walls from sticks and stones. The water comes from the top of nearby Mt. Riga, and is icy cold through most of the year. Somehow, we still managed to handle swimming in it during the summer.
This picture shows the Long Walk of Trinity College in Hartford, CT. This is the oldest part of the school, built when the campus moved to its current location in 1863. This particular day at the end of November was the first snow of the year. Everyone is just a bit surprised, the leaves are still on the trees, and the snow seems wetter than at any other time.
This photograph was taken at the top of Mt. Monadnock in New Hampshire. Though the top of the mountain is barren but for a few shrubs, it turns out that this isn’t because of being above the tree line. Over the course of centuries, the mountain was repeatedly burned, both to make room for livestock and because wolves were living in its caves. Now, just a handful of berry bushes and grasses crust the smooth, ancient stone of the mountain. Some have called it, “the Most Hiked Mountain in America.”
Finally, I have a picture from Key West, Florida. The sunsets and the enormous thunderheads there make for some lovely pictures, but my favorite detail is at the horizon: the poles supporting power lines, alone in the water, bringing electricity from key to key.
Rain and Roots
Little pockets of calm exist all over Berkeley’s hustling campus, but Strawberry Creek on a rainy day is a particularly superlative example. The leaves and water take on this lovely green that perfectly offsets the red needles from the Redwoods above. Against this palette, the textures of the mud and roots are all the more striking.
Sunset by the Banks
Walking through the forest with family on Christmas day always has a special crispness to it. The roads are deserted, the days are short, the trees are bare. If the weather is chilly, the whole experienced is sharpened with red noses and warm drinks afterwards. That was the experience on the day I took this photograph.
Decaseconds 