Above a northern forest in the fall, the burst of foliage almost becomes an abstract explosion. Winding down on the forest floor is a neatly groomed path, adding just a tiny extra hint of possibility.
Thick forests carpet the hills of Utah, except where they don’t. In many of those little clearings, a human-made structure is visible. The cabin in the foreground clearing looks particularly inviting.
Seattle center’s International Fountain in the late spring and summer always reminds me of trips downtown for various festivals.
Under the redwoods’ canopy, Muir Woods is usually a pretty dark place. Where trees have fallen or hillsides disrupt the valley flood, sunlight sneaks through.
Given all of the natural or semi-natural textures in Muir Woods National Monument, the metal patches (held in place with nails that look like rivets on an early aircraft) in the pathway make for an odd juxtaposition.