Out in the woods, I often look at the sky seeking out patterns in the tree cover. Sometimes, they are to frame the night sky, while others are to seek shapes and patterns where they do not exist, just as one would read the clouds. During one such hike in the forests of California, I came across a dense grove of conifers whose crowns covered the sky except for a bird-shaped gap providing an open view of the sky.
It felt like a sign of redemption and freedom, fleeing from the past and flying towards the future, and it certainly was appropriate for what I was seeking for during those trying times.
John Muir Trail
CA USA
An Ode to Memorable Sunsets
Lost, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered for they are gone forever.
As a photographer, seeking out the golden hour can mean the difference between being at the right place at the wrong time and the right place at the right time. Once sunset a couple of years ago, I found myself at the scenic Pacific coast of Nicaragua, far before the turmoil began there. I count myself lucky to have found one of the two golden hours.
Las Peñitas
Nicaragua
Diaorama in Nature
While hiking, I seek out not just the panoramic vistas of endless mountains. Granted, they are a big draw, but I sometimes stop for the small dioramas that I find in nature: a tiny cascade down moss-covered rocks, an assemblage of ferns and flowering plants, a tree nursery. They help find the beauty and a semblance of organization in the chaos of nature.
While hiking in the Olympics, I came across one such scene, and stopped to admire the gentle gurgling sound of water; it was the perfect place to catch a break on a 10-mile day.
Olympic National Park
WA USA
Hidden in the Forest
One of the hidden gems of the PNW is catching the vibrant cascades in the innumerable creeks cutting through the forested slopes of the Cascades. As the heavy winter snow starts to melt, the tiny brooks become flush with snowmelt and breathe life into the surrounding vegetation.
I noticed this creek while hiking up to a glistening lake in the Cascades. While from afar the cascades were loud, up close, I could spend time and admire the tiny rivulets coursing through the rocks, and small plants hanging on for dear life. It was a breath of fresh air in the hazy days of the pandemic.
Mt Baker Snoqualmie National Forest
WA USA
Enchanted Trails
There are some places in this planet that are truly enchanted, where you can find yourself spellbound by every sight, sound and smell, and where every step and every turn make you stop and stare at the rich beauty all around. Olympic National Park is one such place.
This was not my first visit to this enchanted forest. Nay, this was my third; but in all my previous visits, the right conditions had eluded me. This time, I was deep in the forest, with nary a human for company, and with cloudy skies lending a soft glow to the rich undergrowth that permeated every inch of the forest. Walking through that lush greenery, smelling the fresh mountain air, and hearing the songbirds serenade echo through the trees, refreshed my mind, body and soul.
Even though I spent hours hiking through this enchanted valley, there were still so many moments I paused just to soak this magic in.
Olympic National Park
WA USA
For the Planet
The earth is old. 5 billion years old. In that time, millions of species have evolved and become extinct. Humanity is but a temporary blip in this vast canvas over time. And yet, in that short time, we have somehow managed to impact the environment in ways very few other life forms have. And these changes have left permanent scars, and has happened at a rate faster than the life in this planet can adapt. Examples abound, from increasing CO2 levels, rapid deforestation, and higher-than-average rates of species extinction. And at such a scale, these impacts are but a statistic. And when a calamity becomes a statistic, we often tend to ignore it. And change never happens.
What triggers change is usually individual events that take on viral lives of their own - the death of the last wild southern white rhino, the recent tragic killing of a pregnant elephant in India, the illegal trophy hunting of Cecil the Lion, the death of Harambe, and so many more. It was one such event that spurred me think of the pain and the grief these creatures go through from a decision not of their in making. It was, needless to say, an emotional day.
These animals paid and continue pay the price for a choice humanity made. One cannot reverse it, but I hope to help reduce the impact we have impressed on the one life-bearing planet. On this World Environment Day, both my partner and I have pledged to donate 5% of our income to charities focused on preserving the environment, and on helping the other species who cohabit this planet survive and thrive. It may be a small amount, but over time, we hope to increase it and have even more impact.
Well you join me?
Delicate Delights
It was more than a decade ago that I had heard of the kaleidoscopic displays of tulips in Holland. I pictured long undisturbed rows of variegated blossoms stretching endlessly to the horizon, adorned by silhouettes of iconic farmsteads and slowly rotating Dutch windmills under a hazy morning light. That vision spurred a last minute trip to the Skagit valley of Washington, the tulip capital of the Pacific Northwest. While it lacked the beautiful haziness of an atmospheric Dutch landscape, it was replete with the endless varieties of Tulips that I had come to expect. This collection was but a small sampling of the rich displays I witnessed.
This was the year I was supposed to be ensconced in the vast tulip fields, chasing sunrises and sunsets amidst the vast beds of colorful blooms, and exploring the idyllic Dutch countryside in all its glory. Sadly, that was not meant to be. But in light of the challenges this pandemic has placed on society, I am glad to be where I am.
This too, shall pass.
Skagit Valley
WA USA
Spring in the Air
My normal travels during April would have taken me to seek out the bountiful spring blossoms across the state and country. But this is not a normal year. Most of my planned travels have taken a backseat to the ongoing pandemic. I just hope the beautiful blooms continue to happen, providing sustenance for the tiny pollinators that are responsible for this kaleidoscopic shows of color.
As for now, if the long road ahead seems daunting, pause to think how far we have come, and how much impact we have already had in containing this pandemic.
Southern California
Sleepless in Seattle
As the boundaries between work and home are erased (for some), the lines between the days of the week are also getting blurred. In the past years, I'd look forward to traveling as the spring season rolled around into the Pacific Northwest. They'd be the delightful breaks that motivated me to complete work early and plan for my next sojourn. These set the boundaries that defined my year in perspective
But in this new era, that is no longer the case, and as the days roll on, I have to find new mile markers to define my life.
I am blessed that I can continue to work remotely, which is not the case for many in this beautiful city. My heart goes out to those who keep this city (and others) running like a well-oiled machine despite the sever restrictions we face now.
Seattle
WA USA
Escaping Paranoia
The last few weeks have certainly not been peaceful: between the rapid onset of a contagious virus, hyperactive media coverage, and a lack of decisive action by multiple developed countries, paranoia has set it. And in paranoia, human beings have not been rational actors. Not a day goes by when you don't hear of people defying quarantine, or of hoarders stocking for the next decade, disrupting the finely tuned supply-chains. It makes you realize what a thin veneer of order human beings superficially present, and how quickly this can be subverted
In then end, I am eternally grateful for the people who keep civilization functioning: the medical personnel taking care of the sick and researchers finding the next cure, the expansive supply chain supplying essential goods, transit workers, safety services, and utility providers without whom nations would grind to a halt.
During these pressing times, what gives me solace are the little signs of upcoming spring: a poppy flower opening up its colorful petals, a budding field of color heralding warmer weather, bountiful waterfalls under fleeting light, and alpine meadows renewing under the growing warmth of the sun. I hope that by the time spring rolls around, things will become more peaceful again. And in the meantime, I am going to be hunkered down at home, admiring memories of these little signs of solace.
CA USA