Tag Archives: forest

More forest depths…

Story book forest v2 2015-02-12IMG_3617IMG_3617
- Deep Rainforest - click on the image for a larger view

 

Clearly I have an affinity to the deep mystery of rainforest beauty. The moody grey weather invited another walk along the lower trails of  Bluff Park. Its impossible for me to walk these paths without thinking of stories and fairy tales, and of Ents and Hobbits— I have yet to see one of those, but doesn't this scene make you wonder if maybe... if we waited very quietly ...  ?

This afternoon for a change of pace, I'll go and hunt for some early spring buds, but for now, its deep forest that I want to share.

 

Winter beauty: a ‘given’ glory

 

Winter broom with lichen like blooms 2015 01 21IMG 3244IMG 3244  Version 2

The broom that lines the old road along which we walked this morning was glowing gold, the same rich yellow that the blooms of June display.

But this is mid January.

Rather than June’s golden bloom this was winter’s answer to springtime vibrance—  thick gold lichens along the length of the dead grey broom twigs. Winter life. Life in a different mode.

These branches won’t bloom next spring. They’ve spent themselves already.  But their winter glory is beautiful all the same.

But its not simply the sight of this surprising beauty. Its also the thought it stirs in me—  the thought that this brilliance doesn't emerge from the broom itself, but rather is a gift, covering its dead twigs. It is clothed in a glory that's given.

A good reminder. Another glimpse of grace amidst the ordinary meanderings of the day.

a spot of light

Spot of sun on the wet lichens and ferns 2015 01 18IMG 3215IMG 3215
a spot of sunlight in the rainsoaked forest

 

On Thursday night there was more rain in 12 hours than I recall since I had a rain gauge. The Gulf Islands are in a ‘rain shadow’ on the east side of Vancouver Island, but that ‘shadow’ didn’t mitigate the amount of rain that fell overnight. 26 mm. The wind also buffeted the house with astounding force as the gale rose and receded. In the morning the wind had veered to the Southwest as predicted, still swirling in the treetops and bringing repeated rain showers, and even periods of heavy rain. But in between— oh my goodness! Is there anything more magnificent than the sun slanting through the drenched cedars, as they drip and little rivulets forge through the low spots, finding their path to the sea, and the colours are intense as the sun drenches the rain soaked forest. 

This photo is a glimpse of one flash of light on the lichens, moss and fern as we navigated our road between rainstorms, stretching our legs and breathing the rich fragrant air. 

The rainforest in winter

the wonder of the rainforest 2015-01-10IMG_3145IMG_3145 - Version 2I've always loved the forest. As a child I loved to explore trails in the woods, to build forts, and to take a picnic to a mossy spot and sit in the quiet— sometimes with a friend. The forest has always been a place of wonder and mystery for me.
It remains so— and to me it is most deeply mysterious and wonder-full in the depths of winter when the soaking rain and the January mist and fog moves amidst the trees. The strong shapes are softened  and the moss and lichens become almost luminous in the shortened daylight, as though they thrive in the winter, enjoying the relief from the droughts of August.

Some people have told me they find these short darker days with the low hanging cloud wearying. For me, along with the lichen-bearded cedars, soaking their roots in the sodden earth, and the moss that is practically jubilant in its lush growth, this is a happy time of year. It's the season of rest and replenishment.

I'll be ready when the exuberance of spring comes, and I'll  be ready to dry out in the summer. But for now, it's winter, and it is very good.

lichen draped forest

fir trees and lichensAfter a day of drenching rain yesterday, and the general sogginess, the sun broke through today in a most glorious manner. Perfect weather for a walk and to venture beyond the bounds of our own homestead. We headed up to the Bluffs as we hadn't been there for a while, and I was eager to get some autumnal photo-shots from that perspective.
One of the striking sights, illumined by the brilliant sunlight,  was the extravagant hangings of  hairy lichens. Somehow they were more emphatically 'present' than I recall.  Maybe the combination of weather patterns and clean air has made it a bumper season for lichen growth.
What caught my eye here was the dominance of the vertical lines: the tree trunks in the background,  the drooping lichen in the foreground.

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a little light on the road…

a little light on the road
in places there are bits of light on the road... (click image to enlarge)

My daily walks up the road are always a pleasure. Well, mostly always. Sometimes, if its just plummeting rain, my pleasure is dampened (so to speak). But today it was a real pleasure, as the leaves dappled the road, and the sun was still slanting through the trees, even if weakened by the light overcast.

In places, like the spot in the photo,  there was a little light on the road, which struck me as this morning as a fine metaphor of how life works—  a little light here and there. Not alway blazing brilliant light, but light all the same. And then the road curves in to the shadier spots.

The patches of light are exquisite— I love and appreciate them— their clear colour and beauty,   but even in the shadier spots there are marvelous things to see: moss and mushrooms, lichens, winter wrens chattering and woodpeckers flitting. These treasures were certainly present today and interestingly, they were for the most part, in the darker, less glorious places.

 

 

nourishing the young

young cedar thriving
young cedar thriving (click to enlarge)

The fresh young cedar draws its nourishment from the grand old stump. Forest life and its poignant beauty this afternoon was just what I needed, apparently. I'd been pensive, aware of the passing of time, and the losses that means, the people and generations gone.  The thinning of the fog invited me out with my camera, and I'm so grateful for the hour outside both in the beach and in the woods.

The fog itself wasn't the focus of most of today's photos (though I did get some of those too).  Instead I meandered, with my camera,  in the woods, and the slant of light pointed me to some of the beauties that I'd have missed if my gaze hadn't been directed to them by the shafts of sun, like a spotlight that's ever changing, every day, every minute, and season to season, moving on.

This image seemed particularly apt, given my earlier pensiveness, and the shifting light and mists and all. And in the midst of it, hope. And new life emerging in unexpected places.

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I've edited the photo above with Topaz Simplify.