Sandy Mouth

Shoving off I'd normally be flipping through my rolodex of immediate and long-past troubles for no good reason. But not this morning. The water is glassy and the sky is too blue for that.

Along the shore are neat and tidy cottages and homes with lawns down to the water, one after the other. In my mind I add mature trees and a planted buffer along the shore of each one. I think about my fizzled landscape architecture career. So many thoughts.

After the last cottage the shore becomes a wild wall of cedars and dogwood. I'm not sure how I'm going to find the mouth of the small creek I'm looking for. Finally I see the faintest light strip against the dark vegetation. I'm hoping it's sand at the mouth of the creek. It is.

The creek is guarded by enormous underwater prop-mangling stumps and logs from another era. My kayak easily floats over them.

After pulling my boat on shore just a few hundred feet upstream from the mouth, I sit down in a completely different world. It's wild and teeming with life. The boats out on the lake are still faintly buzzing but only if you want to hear them. The sounds here are bird chatter, water burbling and insects thrumming.

I think about all the land along the banks of this creek. I think about where it's headwaters bubble up from the ground. I've walked a lot of that ground and it makes me happy to know it's protected and healthy. It makes me feel good that long after I'm gone cold, clean water will flow out into this lake. At least here, a whole, healthy system will contribute to the larger watershed.

I also wonder if it's enough.

But today I am grateful and awestruck that places like this exist and that people of every walk are willing to band together to keep them.

Red Pine Plantation

Despite not being the most ecologically healthy places out there, red pine plantations are always a personal favorite to walk through and photograph. The uniform rows, tall straight trunks make for long sight lines, fun light/shadow play and interesting perspective manipulation. It’s like walking through a manmade stylized forest sculpture. This particular plantation sits adjacent to a large natural cedar swamp creating a dark backdrop and a dramatic contrast in creators, habitat type and overall feel at its edge.

Greenman

In order for me to enjoy the holiday pomp and tinsel it often require some time considering and recalling its origins. After a little poking around I found some symbols of the season that spoke to me and incorporated them into this composition: the Green Man (overall image), triqueta (eyes and forehead), and Awen (beard). These symbols have taken on many meanings through the millennia but they appear to mostly revolve around the magic of the solstice— the enchanting time of year when light again prevails over darkness illuminating a path toward new life and opportunity. Whatever your meaning for this holiday season is I wish you peace. #awenadayswork

Work at the Headwaters

Last night, way up near the headwaters, work needed to be done.

The lodge and dam were looked over and patched up.

Food was gathered for the winter months.

Slowly the water is rising, expanding access and opportunity but only if the work is done.

Stick after stick, the work.

• More Thoughts

  I've played around combining wash (basically painting pencil/graphite) and pencil a bit before but never landed on anything I liked, but this time i like where the combo landed. The wash softens the pencil marks a bit and helps with subtle toning water and hazy light through trees often requires.

  There are a good amount of other "technical" art things I learned along the way on this one too (finally sort of understanding how to portray the amazing complexity of moving water) but this piece came about on the heels of finishing "Eager, the Surprising, Secret Life of Beavers and Why They Matter" by Ben Goldfarb, so I was thinking a lot about the life of beavers and what is going on in this image. The book covers the benefits these keystone creatures can bring to an area (increase wetland habitat, trap and redistribute nutrient rich sediments, help recharge local aquifers, improve water quality, to name a few) and the near-extinction woes they have faced over the years, from over-trapping them for their furs, to eradicating them from parts of the west for "messing with" irrigation to lethal removal when their activity affects housing or other infrastructure... and now, they are making a comeback and lauded as water and habitat heroes in some places... in a large part because we, as humans, took the time to really study these guys and learn how we could work together for some really amazing outcomes. Slowing down, observing, learning from and making space for the good work of others... good lessons/reminders... for me anyway.

  Beavers (and so many plants and animals actually) continue to amaze and inspire me on many levels.

Charlie Wing

I never liked church much growing up. It always seem to get in the way of more important things like riding bikes and Casey’s American Top Forty.

Bored and uncomfortable in the wooden pews my mind would wander off thinking about this week’s “Long Distance Dedication” while marveling at the church’s massive beams and stained glass windows our family’s architect friend had somehow conjured. I’d zoom my eye in to examine a single piece and back out to the whole picture amazed at how properly arranged pieces could make something altogether different and more beautiful.

I still love stained glass and see versions of it throughout nature. From the wings of a dragonfly to coral fossils on the beach the collections of interesting pieces forming a more beautiful whole will always amaze me.

These days I have a decent idea of how stained glass windows are made and it’s impressive but who’s in charge of dragonfly wing construction?

Acorn Cap

Who put the shingles on this roof?

The answer is an oak tree of course. But think about that for a minute. Think about what it takes to put a roof over our own heads, the effort we go through to give our kids a chance to survive and thrive. Then think of the oak tree, designing and building hundreds of these beautiful structures every year to protect and then release their "children" into the world and we hardly notice.

There is much to be learned from nature if only we slow down and observe.

D.H. Day, Cold Moon Night

Taking time to draw places I've visited helps me better understand them. Drawing forces me to break places down into simple shapes and lighting. Then, slowly put them back together, piece by piece, until it comes to life on the page. Often this process allows a bond and respect for these places not previously available. 

Drawing also allows me to live in and experience worlds I've never been... like a good book or movie can do. I wasn't able to spend much time with the recent super moon but friend and fellow creator Kathy Partin has been spending a lot of time capturing and sharing beautiful imagery of the night sky and had a great session with the super moon. Its not the same as being there but I was able to get a sense of what it was like by carefully studying a beautiful image she made and then creating this drawing.

Each project is different and people have wildly varying reasons for creating the things they do but often its not primarily about the end result- its about the process. Here's what Kathy had this to say about her passion for creating night imagery:

"I enjoy seeing the world in a different light. There is a stillness at night that allows peace to settle into my being. The night sky reminds me of how insignificant I am in the Grand scheme of things. When I'm out there my senses become heightened and I'm more in tune with the earth."

You can see photos on her Facebook page: https://goo.gl/v4wDCo