hillsides – widening rings…

The Remains of the Day

What is it about watching the sky go from daylight to sunset and then dusk to twilight? Any time the clouds are moving, I enjoy looking up to watch (camera in hand), ready to capture the loveliness as it passes by. But the unfathomable yet reliable transformation of light to dark as the day ends — and then the same miracle played out in reverse at sunrise — is something that always holds me in thrall. I find it hard to tear myself away from the spectacle until it is complete. A song that feels unfinished until the last few notes fade out…

When I went out for my evening walk yesterday it was hot and muggy. It didn’t matter! The sky had been beckoning me all day and now I was ready and waiting to enjoy the symbiosis of clouds and color. The quickly changing light transformed the hillsides such that I could stand in one spot and create several pleasing variations of the same image…

When the moon finally showed itself it was a delicate waxing crescent. One last sliver of light as the rest of the canyon succumbed to darkness…

Guess what? This is my 100th blog post. (!!!) I just wanted to take the opportunity to say what a joy it has been to share my photos and thoughts with you all. I do cherish the solitude of my outings, but I love the connection and communion that I feel in getting to share those moments with friends that value and admire the natural world as I do. Thank you for all the wonderful comments and participation. Your encouragement and enthusiasm means the world to me.

*blissful smile of gratitude*

Harsi / August 3, 2011 / hillsides, skies / 4 Comments

Farewell to July

When I opened my eyes this morning, it took me a moment to reconcile the sound.

Rain?!

That didn’t seem very likely… I sat up and let the fog of sleep drift further away.

It is rain! What the heck? It’s raining!

Not a lot, mind you… Just enough to dapple the brown earth and make the air smell moist and alive. But, here in the canyon at the tail-end of July, any rain at all is a rarity and I was grateful for it. I’m quite certain that the wildlife shared my elation as well.

The sky was overcast and lovely for much of the day, but by late afternoon when I finally got clear of the “to do” stuff on my list and went out for a walk, the big clouds had mostly retreated and were accumulating over the peaks of the San Gabriels.

I walked down to the oak woodland area that parallels the road. It was hot and humid and the bitey flies were out in force looking for a meal. (I’m not sure if we are as tasty as the main course — the local Mule Deer — but that certainly doesn’t stop them from sampling.) Fortunately, I had good company and was happy to be out despite the constant waving and swatting.

Previously, I had mentioned that our seasonal creek has completely dried up in several spots. I thought it might be interesting to illustrate this and so I searched through my photos to see what I could find. The picture on the left was taken in early February of this year. This spot along the creek forms a large, slow-moving, shallow pool that is always a favorite congregating spot for the breeding Coast Range Newts (Taricha torosa torosa). The picture to the right was photographed just last week, and as you can clearly see, the ground is little more than damp now.

Tomorrow’s post will feature a bunch of pics of the Mule Deer who can (with increasing frequency) be found resting and browsing for food in the relatively cooler, shadier areas around our cabin. In truth, I meant to share them with you today, but (like the female pictured below) I ran out of steam and decided to take it easy instead. I hope everyone else is finding ways to beat the heat and still enjoy some time outside!

Harsi / July 31, 2011 / hillsides, mammals, skies, water, weather / 2 Comments

A Picture Worth 501 Words

Moments after our awesome bear sighting on the 4th, we were cresting the top of a steep rise further on down the same road…

“Deer”, I said.

“To the right.”

This is my typical shorthand way of informing my husband of impending wildlife on the road as he drives. It’s usually not necessary as he’s just as good at spotting the critters as I am, but I figure it doesn’t hurt to have two sets of eyes looking. Especially at this time of year, we encounter so many deer, rabbits, and ground or tree squirrels that you really have to drive slow and be mindful in order to avoid the unthinkable.

The deer around here seem to have any number of ways of reacting to our oncoming vehicle. Sometimes, they will bound swiftly off the road, boing-boing-ing their way off into the brush or up a steep hillside. Other times, they seem uncertain of what to do, meandering in the middle of the road or crossing one way then back the way they came. Then, there are those times when they freeze and just watch our slow approach.

The deer we were nearing at the top of the hill had a choice to either go down a very steep embankment behind her, cross the road and go up an equally steep embankment on that side, or run up the middle of the road in front of us. But, as she was a little ways off the road and (perhaps) imagined herself somewhat concealed in the high grass, she chose the option of just standing very still and waiting for us to pass. As we steadily inched our way forward, my camera still in-hand from filming the bears, I hatched an idea. I have photographed at the spot we were nearing on so many occasions and I could see in my minds’ eye the position of the deer relative to the view behind it. A view that overlooked the property where we live and beautifully showcased the canyon and the foothills beyond. I rolled my window all the way down, and as we moved past the deer, I managed to take this photo:

I have many, many images taken from this point on the road, looking out over the same view. But, none of them makes me quite so happy as this one. The Mule Deer in the foreground. In the distance, glimpses of the trails behind our cabin. Trails that I have walked thousands of times.

Some photos are more than the sum of their parts. They are a feeling that cannot be explained and may very well not even exist for anyone but the photographer. They capture not only the visual information of what the camera sees, but also somehow find a way to capture the essence of what it was like to witness the scene for yourself.

Well, anyway… sorry for the rambling and philosophizing.

Mostly, I hope you enjoyed the photo.

It’s better than my words.

*GRIN*

Harsi / July 7, 2011 / hillsides, mammals / 4 Comments

My July Sky II

More images and thoughts from my walk at sundown yesterday…

Everywhere I looked the sky was doing something different.

Washes of color and fast-moving clouds.

Swallows dancing through it all.

Tearing myself away from the views above, I found plenty of interest down on the ground.

Fence Lizard (Sceloporus occidentalis longipes) — such beautiful creatures.

After approaching slowly and gradually, I was duly rewarded with an amazing series of shots.

I made sure to say “thank you” when we parted ways.

The Phainopeplas (Phainopepla nitens) are so numerous this year.

Everywhere in the bare branches are crested pairs — I imagine their nests are hidden in the foliage below.

Quail sputtered loudly from the stands of dry thistle and brush as I passed.

The shrill begging cries of a newly fledged hawk demanded my attention over and over again.

I think (as I have thousands of times before) that birds are pure magic.

Even after the sun had set from view, the sky remained drenched in lovely shades.

I took the opportunity to photograph some stunning plant silhouettes.

From left to right: Black Sage (Salvia mellifera), California Sagebrush (Artemisia californica) and White Sage (Salvia apiana).

It was almost 8:30 PM when I neared home…

Just enough light to still make out the potential dangers while wandering around in the hills.

Not quite enough light to get the camera to achieve focus though.

Not to worry… I like the soft, brush-stroked look of this rattlesnake rendering.

Harsi / July 4, 2011 / birds, hillsides, plants, reptiles, skies / 2 Comments

My July Sky

While it has been my general observation that the sunsets in the months of April through August are not nearly so impressive as the remainder of the year…

…today was a spectacular exception.

This was the amazing backdrop for my first decent outing in more than a week. It felt incredible to be walking my familiar path again.

I did way more than I should have today and my body is exhausted. But my mind and my spirit are soaring once again! I truly am not at my best when kept indoors for too long.

Tomorrow there will be more photos from this walk. Promise.

Harsi / July 3, 2011 / hillsides, skies

Why Don’t We Do It In The… Diplacus??!!

First off, my apologies to The Beatles for usurping the title of their song for my nerdy, semi-humorous, botanical purposes. *GRIN* This is a photo I took yesterday of a pair of mating Soft-winged Flower Beetles (Dasytinae). Be sure to click on the image for a close-up of the beetles. I discovered them nestled deep inside the center of a Diplacus aurantiacus blossom. Diplacus aurantiacus is also referenced as Mimulus aurantiacus, and is known commonly as Orange Bush Monkey Flower or Sticky Monkey Flower.

This is a very common and prolific flower here in the canyon. As it is extremely drought-resistant, it easily covers the hillsides in a bright, orange perfusion of blossoms and continues to bloom long after most of the other Spring wildflowers have peaked.

orange bush monkey flower hillside

Beautiful from afar and beautiful up close… don’t you think?

Harsi / May 29, 2011 / arthropods, flowers, hillsides, plants / 4 Comments

Waiting There For Me

Gold and rose,
the colour of the dream I had,
Not too long ago,
Misty blue and lilac too,
Never to grow old.

Jimi Hendrix, “One Rainy Wish”

As I leisurely browsed through sky images yesterday, I stopped to reminisce on my photos from January 27th of last year. A short walk behind our cabin and up the fire road (a plowed service road meant for fire and other emergency vehicles) brings me to a great west-facing overlook spot. This is where I shoot a great majority of the skies in my archives. Some days (like this one) it’s honestly hard for me to comprehend the beauty I’m seeing…

The view to the east was equally spectacular… but in a much more subtle way. The sky reflected back the colors of the sunset in an amazing pastel gradation suspended above the hills…

Harsi / May 26, 2011 / hillsides, lyrics, skies / 6 Comments

Is it spring, is it morning?

I can’t stop thinking about my walk yesterday. It was the kind of day that makes you want to write about it with such perfection that everyone reading will instantly know just how you felt. I rarely posses that sort of talent… but Mary Oliver does. She is a true master. Her poetry never fails to speak what my heart is saying.

Such Singing in the Wild Branches

It was spring
and finally I heard him
among the first leaves –
then I saw him clutching the limb

in an island of shade
with his red-brown feathers
all trim and neat for the new year.
First, I stood still

and thought of nothing.
Then I began to listen.
Then I was filled with gladness –
and that’s when it happened,

when I seemed to float,
to be, myself, a wing or a tree –
and I began to understand
what the bird was saying,

and the sands in the glass
stopped
for a pure white moment
while gravity sprinkled upward

like rain, rising,
and in fact
it became difficult to tell just what it was that was singing –
it was the thrush for sure, but it seemed

not a single thrush, but himself, and all his brothers,
and also the trees around them,
as well as the gliding, long-tailed clouds
in the perfectly blue sky – all, all of them

were singing.
And, of course, yes, so it seemed,
so was I.
Such soft and solemn and perfect music doesn’t last

for more than a few moments.
It’s one of those magical places wise people
like to talk about.
One of the things they say about it, that is true,

is that, once you’ve been there,
you’re there forever.
Listen, everyone has a chance.
Is it spring, is it morning?

Are there trees near you,
and does your own soul need comforting?
Quick, then – open the door and fly on your heavy feet; the song
may already be drifting away.

For those that are curious, the birds pictured from left to right are:
A displaying male Brown-headed Cowbird (Molothrus ater).
A pair of Lark Sparrow (Chondestes grammacus) — they had literally just finished mating!
A singing Wrentit (Chamaea fasciata).

Bliss. Peace. Beauty. Joy. Everything I want to have in my life! I hope that Spring is bringing all of these things to you too. We all deserve at least a little bit of this every day.

Harsi / May 17, 2011 / birds, hillsides, quotations, skies

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

Yesterday, in the late afternoon, I headed out the door for a walk. I was feeling good and one of the first sights I saw was the faint outline of the moon rising above the hills, which are currently decked out with the pale orange blooms of monkey flower (Diplacus aurantiacus, I think). Usually, by the time I notice the moon in the daytime, it is already fairly high in the sky… it was cool to capture a few shots of it nearer to the horizon.

I decided to take the road that parallels the seasonal creek. The oaks that grow down there are so magical. And the way it looks when the sunlight streams through the dense canopy is something that my camera never seems quite able to capture. It looked something like this…

As I was walking, I heard a noise coming from the dense plant growth next to the creek. I looked down and saw this tiny bundle of brown feathers struggling to keep its balance and grip on the twig where it perched. It failed and tumbled down, disappearing into the foliage. I assumed it might be a juvenile bird and so I waited very quietly and patiently to see if it would return. I was delighted when this very young Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) reemerged!!

The photos aren’t fantastic due to the heavy shade cover, but as you can see it is in the early stages of feather growth — the wings are nowhere close to their eventual full length and the tail is practically nonexistent! Sweet little thing that it was, it sat there and made the most endearing peeping noises over and over (and over!) again.

Even though the juvenile didn’t seem to mind my company, I didn’t stay too long because I assumed that my presence was probably keeping the parent(s) from returning with food. [Sure enough, when I was walking by the same spot again on my way home, I saw one of the parents flying away from the clump of vegetation where the juvenile was still “peeping” away.]

Today’s trash has been brought to you by the letters “G-R-E-E-N L-A-N-T-E-R-N” and the numbers “6-17-11”.
The title and release date of an upcoming superhero film.

So, in this case, “the bad & the ugly” part of my walk were the same thing: TRASH. We live in a pretty remote area of the canyon and there is relatively little human and vehicle traffic. Nevertheless, every time I go out for a walk, I bring a bag with me and never fail to find new bits of refuse which I pick-up and take home. The constant winds in the canyon must blow a lot of stuff our way, some things get washed down the creek when we have heavy rains, and some of it undoubtedly gets thrown or falls out of cars traveling on the main road. I try not to get up on my soap box too often, but this issue makes me so disgusted. Balloons seem to push my buttons even more than other things… I think because they are just so superfluous. The epitome of a single-use, non-essential, impulse item that people don’t seem to think twice about. They are insidiously designed to escape and travel long distances, often ending up in the mountains or the oceans. Had I not picked it up, the best case scenario for this balloon would be that it continued to break down into smaller and smaller bits of plastic that scatter through the environment. The worst case scenario is that one of the many critters here in the canyon would mistake it for food and try to eat it — a situation which can have dire consequences for the animal.

For those of you who take regular walks in natural areas, I’d like to ask you to consider carrying a small bag in your pocket or with your gear so that if you run across these bits of garbage you can remove them. I know it’s only a very small solution to an overwhelming problem, but I truly believe that every little bit helps.

Thank you for putting up with my rant. May your Saturday be full of the “good” and none of the “bad & ugly”!

Harsi / May 14, 2011 / birds, conservation, hillsides, not nature, skies / 4 Comments

Good morning? Nope… Great morning!!

I had to get up really early this morning in order to see my husband off on his annual trip to Minnesota for a work-related conference. As I was heading back home, enjoying a leisurely drive through the canyon, I spied a perched Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) silhouetted against the still gray sky and decided to pull off the road to take a few pictures.

I walked a bit futher out onto the flat, open area which used to be a fenced pasture area for horses; now, overgrown with dense chaparral on all sides. The hawk was sitting at the top of a large eucalyptus that I knew was a regular nesting spot in previous years. Sure enough, the lone hawk was soon joined in the tree by its mate. Every few minutes or so, one of the hawks (the female, I’m fairly certain) would let loose with a loud, piercing cry — keeeeeeeeee-yah! — then fall silent again. Several times in a row, the female hawk would take to the air and do some brief circling just above the tree, then as she came in for a landing, the male would flap upward as if to greet her before they both settled back into their proximal perching positions.

I so enjoyed capturing these images of them… they were an absolute joy to watch!

red-tailed hawk pair Not a great photo, with houses and whatnot in the background, but I’m fascinated by how different their plumage looks. Red-tailed Hawks come in many, many color forms, from very pale to very dark and every variation between. I believe that the slightly larger, reddish one is the female…

Eventually, I turned away from the now quiet, stoic hawk pair. I started back to my truck, but as I walked over a small rise, I found myself staring into the eyes of a somewhat startled looking Mule Deer (Odocoileus hemionus). As is often the case when they are approached slowly around our place, the deer seemed more curious about my presence than frightened. I stood very still, moving minimally to take these images…

***Be sure to click on this one to see the detail image — smiles await!!***

The deer crossed to the other side of the road…

…but then actually moved closer, nearing to 40 feet or so.
The expression on her face was one big question mark — WHO are you? WHAT are you? Whatcha’ doin’ standing in the middle of the road there?
Aloud, I said, “Hello, there. How’s it goin’?”
Her only response was an even more intense stare and a twitch of her large namesake ears.

Could she be any more beautiful with the flowering Chamise (Adenostoma fasciculatum) in the background?

I watched her disappear behind my truck and then down into the sloping brush. How can you not feel like a million bucks after an encounter like that?! Quail were calling from hiding places in the dense foliage. A rabbit scampered past. I picked out the calls of California Thrasher, Phainopepla, Wrentit, Common Yellowthroat… just a few of the voices in the busy morning chatter. The sun was now cresting over the hills, its warmth and light spreading over the dark, chilly parts of the canyon.

I was so incredibly glad to be up early!! Happy and blessed. And maybe a little silly from lack of sleep… *grin* This last photo of me heading home is an homage to my friend Ro, who has made an art form of rising early and sharing her morning walks. (I don’t have a great dog like Banjo to pose with me, but I did my best!)

Did this morning hold any wonderful surprises for you?

Harsi / May 11, 2011 / birds, hillsides, mammals, skies / 6 Comments