HDR Photography
Tiny forest clearings feel like carefully decorated rooms to me: the carpet of springy fallen needles, the towering pillars of redwood trees, the edges bordered by ferns, and the minimalist furniture of moss-encrusted stumps. With the sonic environment of raindrops dripping gently through the limbs, the combination made a particularly relaxing effect.
The sequoia trees of Muir Woods stand straight and proud (just like that Neil Young song), but not every tree is so cooperative. Leaning at a jaunty angle and encrusted with moss and wee ferns, this nonconformist of a tree doesn’t have time for any of the “straight up” nonsense.
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.
Today’s guest post comes courtesy of Zack Mensinger.
After spending the afternoon in the Mariposa Grove, the plan was to head back to the valley for the evening, but after rounding the first bend offering a view of the valley, it was perfectly clear that the right choice would be to stay at Tunnel View and watch the sunset. The conditions with the fog alone were incredible, but the clouds promised beautiful sunset color as well. Nature delivered on this promise and the scene was unforgettable. This photo is from a single RAW exposure, with levels adjusted to better balance the valley and sky. My only real wish was that the foreground clouds would catch some color too, but they were too low and were in the shade of the mountains already. A little patience paid amazing returns in this case!
Ok so you can’t fly fish in it but this stream that runs through Muir Woods National Monument really helps set the peaceful mood of the park.
Early in the morning, Muir Woods is still quiet as the first hikers gear up. This picture really conveys the difference in scale between the people and the enormous sequoias of the park. (I liked it so much, I had to sneak it up on a Saturday.)
Standing at the bottom of this small grove in the Sequoia sempervirens of Muir Woods, I have no trouble understanding the origins of the Deists’ beliefs. Rain and gentle sunlight drop between the branches of the redwoods and grace the tinier plants on the forest floor. The shape and order of it please the eye.
Out for a hike on freshly fallen snow, it was a shame to see the day coming to an end. (And the views on that hike were spectacular.) Still, there’s something very satisfying to heading back home to the comfort of a roaring fire and a glass of hot chocolate. (It’s a cliché for a reason!)
From Lion’s Head in Salisbury, Connecticut, views of three states stretch out to the horizon. Rolling, pine-encrusted hills mix with lakes and farms to produce the perfect mélange of New England scenery. On the day of this particular hike (just before New Year’s), the whole world was napping in the sunlight.
As the last days of 2012 fell away, I went hiking with the family to Lion’s Head in northwestern Connecticut. We tromped through the recent snow, dodging bits of falling ice and hidden stones. On our way back from the the summit, we passed under the bent bow of this enormous birch. Though the forest is dormant, the tree is still very much alive. Its smooth, horizontal curve was in fascinating contrast with the stark verticality of the rest of the forest.
New England has a lot of forest remaining. That might seem obvious, but in comparison to places like the UK (where millennia of human activity have annihilated most of the forests), it can be a bit startling.
My grandfather’s farm in Sherborn, MA is perhaps the only unchanging place in my life. Since before I can remember, I’ve sat on this screen porch and looked out through the trees and fields. The flora and fauna of the homestead keep growing and multiplying, but it’s all kept in check.
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.
It’s sort of hard for me to believe upon revisiting this shot that it was taken on a college campus, or that beyond this stand of trees is a relatively well traveled street. This is just one of many things that struck me as awesome about UBC’s campus.
The Nitobe Memorial garden (previously featured here) is full of water features, each with their associated symbolism. Featured here is one of several water falls. On this particular occasion I was shooting free hand and so the washed out highlights are somewhat unavoidable here, but there is something I find appealing about the effect created by the falling water and its spray in and about the rocks at the foot of the falls contrasted with the pool only a little further on.
Decaseconds 