Tag Archives: light

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.

❧❧❧

 

variety ~ a range of colours and light

variations of light and colour
variations of light and colour (click on image for larger view)

The variations in weather, sunlight and storm alternating all day on Thursday  provided a rich show of colours and clouds.

The particular delight of this scene for me  is not only the range of colour but the intensity of the pastoral green in the foreground contrasted with the deep grey of the storm over the Tsawwassen bluff in the distance (right). The patch of blue, which an old school-friend would remind me, is definitely 'enough to patch a sailor's pants' but in this instance it was not a guarantee of sunshine to follow.  I love it though,  especially  with the heavy grey and white clouds, and the glint of light on the rocky islands offshore (Lion Islets for those of you with marine charts).

Life itself is full of variety in texture and colour. Vibrant. Bright colourful parts, and scary dark parts.  Maybe that's something of why I am so drawn to this ever changing view.  It's brim-full of life and change. Always. And in its variety,  it  stirs in me,  at the very least, awe.  Wonder.

beyond the gate

IMG_2161 HFarm GardenGate 3Some people and places overflow with life in a way that stirs something beneath and beyond our senses: something of glory and grace that we catch in little glimpses, lifting our hearts, catching our breath— inviting ... hope. Visiting our friends at the farm was like this for me. It was like stepping  into a Tolkeinesque world: a world where so much more than we 'realize' is going on.

We were welcomed— even 'herded'— into the kitchen by their Border Collie, where our friends were preparing risotto with freshly gathered wild mushrooms, and sautéeing pumpkin with rosemary, kneading dough and pressing it out, and laying sliced apples atop to bake for a fresh dessert.

The gate to the 'kitchen garden' offers a glimpse of the light and playfulness that beats at the heart of this place, and this home.  To offer words like 'creativity' or 'beauty' barely approaches the overflowingness, the superfluity of life.

The curve of the driftwood gate, jauntily placed off-centre, and oh, my — the garden itself. The sun was lowering  but still there was such light and colour in the garden.

May you,  and may we all catch glimpses of such overflowingness of life today, even amidst today's own dailyness and difficulties.

Heading homeward…

rowing in the bay at sunset
rowing into the bay at sunset, heading homeward (click image for larger view)

The sun is setting far earlier than in the warmer days of summer. Autumn is truly upon us which made our rowing expedition particularly sweet the other day, the last sunny day of the recent stretch of spectacular weather. The reflections on the water, the light and shadow, the ringed pattern of the drips from the oars, and the darkness of the shore as the sun dropped behind the cedars— all perfectly lovely.
Heading homeward offered this glimpse of peace and safe harbour, with the assurance of a warm fireside, and hot supper...and 'thawing' my very cold bare feet.

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.

 

 

a tiny window…

The rain has started in earnest now. Its not a gentle sprinkling as we had overnight but a proper and welcome rain, pounding on the roof.
There was a brief pause between the overnight showers and this more definite, steady downfall, and it was in that pause I went out with the dogs, on our usual morning round. In the southeast there was one tiny window in the clouds, the lower edge gilded by the sun rising behind. That window is now tight shut, but it provided a lovely glimpse of the light that's ever present, even while obscured.

a tiny gilded window
a tiny window gilded by the rising sun (click on image to enlarge)