23 March 2017

Peculiarly Squirrelish

Fells Reservation, Massachusetts

Red Squirrel. With complicated Latin name: Tamiasciurus Hudsonicus. She is not an urban creature. Prefers the freedom of forests. Not very many remain on Fells. Seeing Her here is a real treat. Recalls John Muir's enchanting writings about Douglas, her close cousin from the Pacific Coast.
All the true squirrels are more or less birdlike in speech and movements; but the Douglas is preeminently so, possessing, as he does, every attribute peculiarly squirrelish enthusiastically concentrated. He is the squirrel of squirrels, flashing from branch to branch of his favorite evergreens crisp and glossy and undiseased as a sunbeam. Give him wings and he would outfly any bird in the woods. His big gray cousin is a looser animal, seemingly light enough to float on the wind; yet when leaping from limb to limb, or out of one tree-top to another, he sometimes halts to gather strength, as if making efforts concerning the upshot of which he does not always feel exactly confident. But the Douglas, with his denser body, leaps and glides in hidden strength, seemingly as independent of common muscles as a mountain stream. He threads the tasseled branches of the pines, stirring their needles like a rustling breeze; now shooting across openings in arrowy lines; now launching in curves, glinting deftly from side to side in sudden zigzags, and swirling ingiddy loops and spirals around the knotty trunks; getting into what seem to be the most impossible situations without sense of danger; now on his haunches, now on his head; yet ever graceful, and punctuating his most irrepressible outbursts of energy with little dots and dashes of perfect repose. He is, without exception, the wildest animal I ever saw,...

JOHN MUIR, The Mountains of California

Fells:  Reddish brown. Grayish white. Sparkling whiskers.

Fells:  The Colors of the Forest

Fells:  Graceful nibbling

Fells:  I know you are watching

19 March 2017

A Day for Watching

Keokea Bay, Hawai’i aka Big Island

The Hurricane has just passed by the Island. First Thought: The Waves. No surfers today. They say: It is too chaotic. Or too dangerous? I do not see the chaos. It is the Size. It is the Power. Crushing into the Cliffs. An Infinite Energy. Giving IT to the Cliffs. To the Air. And to Me. In millions of flying droplets.

Keokea Bay:  A Day for Watching

Keokea Bay:  The Hurricane has just passed by the Island

Keokea Bay:  First Thought: The Waves

Keokea Bay:  No surfers today. They say: It is too chaotic.

Keokea Bay:  Or too dangerous?

Keokea Bay:  I do not see the chaos

Keokea Bay:  It is the Size

Keokea Bay:  It is the Power

Keokea Bay:  Crushing into the Cliffs

Keokea Bay:  An Infinite Energy

Keokea Bay:  Giving It to the Cliffs

Keokea Bay:  To the Air

Keokea Bay:  And to Me



15 March 2017

Nor'easter is Here Again

Fresh Pond, Cambridge, Massachusetts

For all of us Here, Nor'easter means Strong Winds and Lots of Snow. It happens whenever Tropic and Arctic decide to visit us at the same time. Creating THIS Amalgam of Beauty. With the Message: We are all HERE!

Fresh Pond: Pathways to the Pond

Fresh Pond: Non-abiding Bonds

Fresh Pond: When Tropic meets Arctic

Fresh Pond: Wind and Snow. Leave their Marks.

Fresh Pond: Hovering in the Snowy Mist

Fresh Pond: Nor'easter. Coming together.




12 March 2017

The Ice on Center Stage

Fells Reservation, Massachusetts

It is Cold. Very Cold. No snow today. The Ice on Center Stage. Sculpting along the Streams. The Ponds. Wherever Clear meets Dense. Glowing Fantasy.

Fells: Around and Around

Fells: Alluring to bubbles

Fells: Glittering. Dancing.

Fells: Diamond Skirt

Fells: When Clear meets Dense. With Sparkles.

Fells: The Pond and the Shore

Fells: Leaves alongside

Fells: Under frozen caps

Fells: Every Single Matters

Fells: Through translucent veils

Fells: A Fashion Statement?


07 March 2017

How Distant from the Nature?

Lake Angeles Trail, Olympic National Park

On the ascent to Lake Angeles. The Trees all around. The Sun coming through. Making IT feel like a Stage. Popping flowery grounds. The Stream gurgling. And then the Emerald. Among the Mountains. Back down through the Forest. The Hiker en route to the Lake. Stopping. Chatting. Waves Goodbye. Moving On. I spot this letter. Pinched by the branch.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep,
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am diamond glints on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain,
I am the soft, uplifting rush,
Of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft star that shines at night,
Do no stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.


Mary Elizabeth Frye
Are we humans REALLY that Distant from the Nature?

Lake Angeles: On the ascent. The Sun coming through.

Lake Angeles: Feels like a Stage

Lake Angeles: Flowering

Lake Angeles: Gurgling

Lake Angeles: Over the Bridge

Lake Angeles: The Emerald

Lake Angeles: Among the Mountains

Lake Angeles: Back down. Through the Forest.

Lake Angeles: En route to the Lake

Lake Angeles: En route from the Lake

Lake Angeles: Spotting the letter. Pinched by the branch.

Lake Angeles: Are we humans Really that Distant from the Nature?

03 March 2017

Living in a Made-up World

Searching Internet. It is loaded with all kinds of made-up photos of places which have nothing to do with real places. We humans seem to be enjoying this Make-Believe world. Made-up faces. Made-up stories. Made-up sunsets...... and on and on it goes. Perfumed and Amplified Hallucinations. Can we NOT sense the Here-and-Now anymore?  The Shades. The Sounds. The Scents. The Tactile. The Flavors. As Distant from the Nature as ever.

Hawai'i: Real. Not Real real as being There. But close enough.

Hawai'i: Made-up. Fiction.


28 February 2017

Moments in Time

Spot Pond, Fells Reservation, Massachusetts

Along the shore of Spot Pond. I have been here many times. Moments in Time flying by. The Pond is never the same.

Spot Pond: A Day for Reflections

Spot Pond: Misty Traveler. Passing.

Spot Pond: Where is the Pond?

Spot Pond: A Perfect Winter Day