On a winter’s stroll through the forested grounds of Mohonk Mountain House, a snowy gazebo makes the perfect place to stop and enjoy the sunshine.
Passing this tree on the way home from work each evening, I can’t help but be reminded of the intersections among nerve cells called ganglia.
Exploring up a forested Napa hillside at dawn, I was surprised to find the remains of a road and (a bit farther on) the foundations of a long-abandoned building. Given how many well-remembered childhood films took place in the forested hills of California, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
Against the backdrop of mostly native flora on the hillside, the palms and vines in the foreground are notable for being (1) particularly emblematic of California, in spite of being (2) transplants from elsewhere.
A consistent theme in my posts over the past few weeks has been “reflection,” raising the question: Am I feeling particularly introspective, or have I just been finding great views with water ?
On Earth Day, I really like the image of the next generation, growing up in nature under the shelter of elders.
Or its alternate title, “High above shallow water.” Near an oxbow in the Grasse River, shifting land is turning the pine forest into an area of swamp.
While the rest of a wine-weekend gang slept in or drank coffee in their pajamas, I climbed the hill behind the house to catch this Saturday morning sunrise over Napa’s dormant vines.
Each tree in the canopy is roughly rotationally symmetrical, resulting in an anisotropic pattern. The sunlight breaks the symmetry and produces this beautiful streak of bright, cadmic yellow.
The nighttime version of this shot offers an extra degree of warmth and quiet beneath the tall oak tree.
Outside Trinity College’s Jackson Hall stands this enormous oak tree. It was there when I was a student, and I remember looking out the window at it through the changing seasons. Though a tiny corner of campus (and perhaps unremarkable), this place holds a lot of personal meaning to me.
On a chunky rock in the middle of the Grasse River through Canton, New York, the lack of good soil has kept the trees small and bonsai-esque.
This dorm along Trinity College’s Long Walk was my home in college, and this massive oak was outside my window. On returning for my ten-year reunion, there was a degree of satisfaction in seeing the tree still standing.
Thirteen years ago, I took this picture out the window of my dorm room in Trinity College’s Jarvis Hall. Over the years of renovations and upgrades between then and now, I don’t believe the room or the tree are still there. The iconic Neo-Gothic windows, however, are still there.
A quiet moment on a sun-dappled path in Muir Woods National Monument to start the week.