A Change and A Move

Blowing Seeds © 2012 Bo Mackison

Blowing Seeds © 2012 Bo Mackison

“How strange that the nature of life is change, yet the nature of human beings is to resist change. And how ironic that the difficult times we fear might ruin us are the very ones that can break us open and help us blossom into who we were meant to be.” ~ Elizabeth Lesser

I’ve been blogging on Seeded Earth since 2007.

I chose the name quickly one afternoon, as I was setting up my blog for the first time. That autumn most of the photographs I took were of landscapes, gardens, prairies, flowers, all growing things. Since these all had their beginning as seeds in the earth, I determined that Seeded Earth would be an appropriate name for my new blog.

Seeds are, indeed, good beginnings, and Seeded Earth took root and grew.

It began as Seeded Earth Photography, morphed into Seeded Earth Studios when I added new products and services, and eventually became my official, government approved, business name, Seeded Earth Studios LLC.

The name served me well as I embarked on the art fair circuit and traveled in the Midwest and Southwest, showing my macro-photographs of botanicals. It worked less well as I photographed fewer landscapes and more desert-scapes. And when I added stories about the arts and healing, and more personal writing, it lost even more of its cohesiveness.

While I still love the Seeded Earth moniker, it’s time to step up and re-christen my soon to be launched website Bo Mackison.

The seeded wonders and desert wonders will still be featured as I continue to post my photography, but I am expanding. I’ll be offering online photography workshops beginning in early 2014, and adding Desert Wisdom Workshops and Retreats later in the year.

Seeded Earth has grown, flowered, given fruit. Now the fruit’s seeds have burst from their container.

In a few days, my new website will be launching at BoMackison.com. Please join me soon in welcoming my newest venture (and adventure).

West Bluff – An Autumn Journey

West Bluff, Devils Lake State Park

West Bluff, Devils Lake State Park © 2013 Bo Mackison

“Walking shares with making and working that crucial element of engagement of the body and the mind with the world, of knowing the world through the body and the body through the world.” ~ Rebecca Solnit

There is something about hiking in a natural setting that is grounding and restorative.

The pounding of city pavement is an altogether different experience than walking upon earthen paths, climbing rocks dispersed in the last glacial age*, scrambling along boulders that eventually dammed glacial flow and created the lake I hiked along. (Devils Lake, the central feature of Devils Lake State Park in south central Wisconsin.)

In an age where many of us take our cars to get just about anywhere, and the average American walks 1.6 miles a week, mostly in malls, grocery stores and walking back and forth from parking lots to buildings. it is easy to forget that a day spent in nature is not only rejuvenating, it is a basic human need.

I am, by choice, a slow walker.

I do not get pleasure from counting steps and computing miles. But I do know I need to walk every day in the natural world, even if I am only walking through a nearby nature conservancy,  along a path in a prairie restoration, even in the neighborhood park, a place filled with the recreational amenities of a neighborhood — playground, ball field, basketball hoops — but also open spaces and fields of grasses.

I take my time on these walks.

This is not aerobic exercise, but an exercise for my senses. I see a forest in shades of yellow, gold, orange, red, purple and every color of green and brown imaginable. The wind picks up and blows cool against my face. The sun passes in and out of colors, forcing me to perform an awkward dance of sorts while walking the paths — coat on, coat off, coat on again.

I pick up leaves of oaks and maples, the textures soft and pliable, their colors brilliant and mottled with specks of decay. I kick the piles of leaves at my feet and I gaze at the faraway countryside from the top of the bluffs, land quilted in peak autumn colors – a few farm fields, patches of hardwood forests, prairies, and rolling hills.

A smorgasbord for the senses.

*Wisconsin Glacier – 110,000 to 12,000 years ago. Not only did its receding create the lake that I hiked around, it also created such notable features as the Great Lakes, Long Island, Cape Cod, and Niagara Falls.

Beauty in an Autumn Fog

Autumn Fog

Autumn Fog © 2013 Bo Mackison

“In nature, everything has a job. The job of the fog is to beautify further the existing beauties!” ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

I have been waiting for the sun to brighten the landscapes in the Madison area.

I had a list of places I wanted to visit during Wisconsin’s beautiful autumn. I waited and waited. And those magical sun-filled days did not appear. I held on so tightly to the idea of “need sun for this explore” and eventually I had to cross several places off my list – places that close for the season on October 31st.

Yesterday I finally took a long look at the calendar, and realized I was not getting a single one of all those October days back. True, it’s been a busy, eventful month, but there were days when I changed plans due to weather, thinking I could fit a visit in when the weather was more suitable. Yesterday, I realized there were only two days left in October, and I had not visited many of the places I usually visit to soak in the autumn beauty.

It was foggy, a bit misty. But I pulled out my winter coat, waterproof and warm, and went for a walk in a nearby park. The fog was moody, thick in some places on the trail, but it offered an interesting color intensity that I would likely have missed if I were walking in bright sunlight. In the gray mist, the colors that do show through are mystical and mesmerizing. An unexpected gift.

Today it is no longer foggy. The rain has washed the foggy blanket away. Perhaps today is a good enough day to explore a rainy autumn day.

~~~

Disclosure: There are several good reasons why I pack up and head to Arizona for the dark seasons of the year. I do love Arizona’s stark beauty fiercely. I also love her sunshine., especially since I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, and the lack of sun plays havoc with my biological chemistry. I delayed my travels this year, for the very best of reasons, and decided to play it smart once I noticed the effects the diminishing sunlight had on my moods and energy levels. I have a thing about taking medications, but there is a time when it is the right call. The treatment appears to be helping, hence the photos of the park in yesterday’s fog.

Twilight Gifts of Autumn

Pool at Sunset

Reflection Pool at Sunset © 2013 Bo Mackison

“Every day comes bearing its own gifts. Untie the ribbon.’ ~ Ruth Ann Schabacker

A walk through gardens in an autumn evening is a gentling walk. The colors are muted, less brilliant than in full summer sunlight, yet they take on a preciousness of their own. Nuances of colors, the mark of changing seasons. A few late season flowers bloom in full glory, surrounded by dropped petals and browning blossoms of flowers past their prime.

The reflection pool, at rest in the evening pause, takes on the autumn colors of yellows, oranges. The last water lilies are in bloom. The grasses, seeded, shimmer in gold and silver. Leaves fall, catch the slightest of breezes, and quiver through the air.

It is a peaceful time, this transition time from sunset to twilight.

Autumn Yellow

Yellow Leaves

Yellow Leaves © 2013 Bo Mackison

In taking time to contemplate the small – in observing the details…we can experience life on a manageable scale.
~ Marilyn Barrett

 

Sitting under the emerald ash
green-yellow shimmers,
pierced-work light filters through
and quivering, touches the ground, settling
in the flutter of fallen leaves.
Wayward chickadee hops branch
to branch, twee-hee.

I am the statue. The tree bursts open
with flits, twitters, chase scenes,
each bird shouldering its way to the feeder
shoving match, the littlest chickadee
flies into leafy cover.

Earthy October and dusty leaves,
crumples of brown, closing my eyes,
I imagine my hands, they open
the trunk. It’s filled with yellowed letters and
faded handwriting, cancelled stamps on
featherweight airmail envelopes.

Red squirrels scavenge the hickory nuts,
their tails a shimmer like can-can skirts.
My feet are bare, toes grip the earth, it is how
I hang on to this spinning world
when it dips and dives out of synch.

And we creep towards the coming dark,
hail the purple skies and the last gasp trees of scarlet.
Color my world. Cheery-cheery trills the cardinal.
Twilight descends, the first star shines.
Make a wish. Spin around twice.
Go inside and turn on the lights.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bo Mackison is photographer, book-maker, collector of stories, naturalist, curator and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.   Autumn color is coloring my world.