To Walk in Solitude, To Listen to Silence

Walking Down Old Baldy

Walking Old Baldy ©2010 Bo Mackison

The more zigzag the way, the deeper the scenery.
The winding path approaches the secluded and peaceful place.
~ Huáng Bīnhóng

Reflecting on what silence looks like. I ponder what a photograph of silence might look like, and then wander (apt word) through a few of my photo catalogs. I’m drawn to the many photos of paths or trails leading into wilderness areas, paths I walked alone in silence. A meditative kind of walking.

Whether I am walking along a sand dune, part worn boardwalk and part shifting sand . . . or through a green forest, thick with green vegetation, towering leafy trees, wildflowers sprinkling pastel colors amidst my feet . . . or tramping on a desert trail, worn deeply into the side of a mountain, stretching through stands of cactus, climbing over piles of tumbled rock . . . or strolling on the smooth pavement in a tended garden, walking further and further away from the crowds, deep into the recesses where few wander, but joy is found . . . or hiking along a snaking path through the wilderness of badlands, a barren maze of eroded land, ridges, peaks, and mesas — all of these I walk in silence.

I listen to the silence, for silence has a sound. I seek answers to questions and perhaps I’ll figure out an answer or two.  Or I simply consider the questions and seek no answers, the easier way to discovery is often simply listening.

Forest Path

Forest Path ©2011 Bo Mackison

“People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle.
But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air,
but to walk on earth.
Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize:
a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black,
curious eyes of a child — our own two eyes.
All is a miracle.”
~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Cactus, Rock and the Trail

Cactus, Rock, Trail ©2012 Bo Mackison

“Walking is the great adventure,
the first meditation,
a practice of heartiness and soul primary to humankind.
Walking is the exact balance between spirit and humility.”
~ Gary Snyder, The Practice of the Wild

There Was a Crooked Path

There Was a Crooked Path © 2011 Bo Mackison

“A fact bobbed up from my memory,
that the ancient Egyptians prescribed walking through a garden
as a cure for the mad.
It was a mind-altering drug we took daily.

~ Paul Fleischman, in Seedfolks

Storm Approaching

Organ Pipe Path ©2012 Bo Mackison

Our way is not soft grass,
it’s a mountain path with lots of rocks.
But it goes upward, forward,
towards the hidden sun.
~ Ruth Westheimer

Badlands-Two Trees

Two Trees in the Badlands © 2011 Bo Mackison

That’s the best thing about walking, the journey itself.
It doesn’t matter much whether you get where you’re going or not.
You’ll get there anyway.
Every good hike brings you eventually back home. ~ Edward Abbey

I find my way through the wilderness and eventually back home.

 

6th Annual Photo Alphabet – An Exploration of 2013 – Arizona to Dreams

Welcome to my Holiday Tradition – my Annual Photo Alphabet.

Today I begin posting my photo alphabet in six parts, culminating on December 31st — just in time to welcome the New Year 2014!

Please join me during the next 6 days as I explore adventures, travel, learning, and change in 2013.

~~~

A is for Arizona and Arroyos.

Cold Front Sunset

Arizona © 2012 Bo Mackison

Hello, Arizona. My adopted state.

When I first visited Arizona, I stayed a week. It only took seven days for me to fall madly in love with the desert. The second year I rented a condo for 8 weeks — my “Bo goes Solo” experience — the first time I’d lived on my own since my college days. The third year I joined the Snowbird Migration, and Sherpa and I made Quail Condo our very own.

Backyard Roadrunner

Arroyo Visitor © 2012 Bo Mackison

There are dozens of reasons I love our casita in Arizona.

The sunshine is a major factor. I have Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and now I enjoy the winter months instead of braving my way through cloudy winters and even cloudier moods. I love the arroyo in my backyard – wild and thick with cacti, mesquite, and acacias.

There are always birds in the trees and at the feeders – several kinds of hummingbirds, orioles, tanagers, vermillion flycatchers, woodpeckers. Gambel’s quails scramble on the ground, rushing from one bit of cover to the next. Occasionally a road runner struts past.

Coyote and bobcats prowl in the early morning hours. I’ve even had a javelina – a kind of wild pig – poke its nose onto my porch, sniffing for a handout, although I let him know he was not invited to dinner!

And most of all,  I love hiking in the nearby Sonoran Desert, camera and journal in hand. Exploring, Listening. Connecting.

~~~

 B is for Bridge.

Misty Bridge

Bridge in Fog © 2009 Bo Mackison

Bridges are connections.

Some days they are shrouded in fog. The iron trusses may be slick with ice. Some of the wooden planks may be missing, or weakened. But when the goal you want to reach is on the opposite shore, it’s time to assess the risk associated with crossing the bridge.

Life stories are bridges, too.

They connect the past with the present and affect the future. I can choose to let my past affect my choices, the risks I am willing to take, the work I accept. Or I can test the bridge, take each step with caution, but maintain forward movement.

My favorite message from this particular bridge photograph is this — even if you can see land on other side, there are no guarantees that what you think you see is what you see. The fog is a reminder that, clear or foggy, we travel across many bridges, and life does not adhere to rigid plans, no matter how well scheduled or executed.

Surprises – such as fog on the bridge – add an element of wonder, challenge, and plenty of opportunity for serendipity!

~~~

C is for Changes, Choices, and Celebration

Seisomgraph Station

Measuring Changes © 2013 Bo Mackison

Don’t you love this vintage seismograph station?

It is located in the heart of Lassen Volcanic National Park in northern California. Although this 90-year-old station has been replaced by a more modern facility, the building stands, testimony to those who monitored the volcanic activity in the park around the clock.

The building is tiny, only space enough for the delicate equipment that measured tiny changes in the movement of the earth.

I once had my own internal seismograph equipment.

It was very sensitive, able to detect change in a millisecond. My change detector was a warning system for me.  Change! Alarm! Beware!

But change is a constant – there is always change. I now make a conscious choice to embrace change.

I no longer need my own seismograph recorder.

Sumac Flags Flying

Celebration of Sumac © 2013 Bo Mackison

And that is something to celebrate.

Celebrate the present while looking forward to the possibilities of tomorrow. This photo, a close up of autumn’s orange sumac leaves, reminds me of prayer flags, gently waving in the breeze, celebrating the changing of the season.

~~~

D is for Dreams, Details, and Decisions.

Three

Dreaming © 2013 Bo Mackison

I dream in technicolor.

Dreaming is one of my favorite activities, be it night dreaming, lucid dreaming, or day dreaming. Dreaming lets me explore many options, turn them over in my mind, fiddle with the details. Visualize.

When autumn arrives in Wisconsin, it adds new colors to the gardens. I spend mornings walking garden paths, admiring the yellows and oranges. As an added bonus, I always delight in seeing the movable garden art.

I work in the garden surrounded by art and nature.

How inspiring to sit on one of the benches tucked in a quiet space, and journal or photograph the botanicals in the changing season.

CCC Picnic Area - Saguaro National Park

Desert Office © 2013 Bo Mackison

I work in the desert surrounded by art and nature, too.

The colors may be different. The desert’s greens and browns still inspire. And often I bring my work and settle in one of the covered shelters scattered throughout Saguaro National Park. These remarkable buildings, built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), provide a shady place for me to set up a temporary desert office.

What a dream come true –  taking photographs, writing, and working in the desert.

~~~

Tomorrow’s post: Elephants to Highways.

Water Trajectory

Water Trajectory

Water Trajectory © 2011 Bo Mackison

I know not how I may seem to others, but to myself I am but a small child wandering upon the vast shores of knowledge, every now and then finding a small bright pebble to content myself with. ~ Plato

Something as simple as drops of water falling from the edge of a fountain on to colored pebbles can make a fascinating photo. I took my time and played with the shutter speed. Love the way the water is hitting the rocks and splashing up in random trajectories. Cameras can capture the unseen – amazing!

—————

Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. When she was a young teenager she dreamed of being a famous geologist. Now she dreams of being a famous photographer who takes photos of pebbles!

Tiny Forest

Tiny Forest

Tiny Forest © 2011 Bo Mackison

 The rational and the serious are empty playgrounds for the muse. ~ David du Chemin

I spend many hours in gardens throughout the year.

Not only do I visit in my backyard gardens, but the botanical gardens, the University’s horticultural garden, a large tract of prairie, and the arboretum are each about a fifteen minute drive from my home. I truly consider myself blessed to have such easy access to such a variety of botanical species.

The last few weeks I have spent most of my time photographing a single area in the Olbrich Botanical Gardens that is only about two feet square.

There are several varieties of elephant ear plants in this space and a few, low growing, flowering plants. Since this area is near the only entrance/exit to the outdoor gardens, I get many curious looks and comments from people walking past. Often they look to see if they can spot whatever it is that holds such fascination for me. A few stop and ask, “What are you taking a picture of?” And a little boy, perhaps five years old, once excitedly asked me, “Are there bugs and spiders in there? Are you taking pictures of snakes?” I even had a docent rush towards me and ask if I had fallen, if I was hurt? Evidently, he startled to see me lying half on the sidewalk, half in the mulch, looking at the underside of the plants.

I usually just smile and say I’m shooting the sunlight patterns on the plants.

That is more than enough information for most people. Even the  docent shook his head and claimed he only takes photographs standing on both feet. Yes, he probably does.

But I don’t.

Half the fun of photography is capturing photos of things that hardly anyone else ever sees.

——————–

Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  Some days are just perfect for lying on your back in a garden and looking at the world through gigantic, swaying leaves.

Shelter from the Sun

Shelter from the Sun

Shelter from the Sun © 2011 Bo Mackison

Silence is never merely the cessation of words . . .
Rather it is the pause that holds together–
indeed, it makes sense of–
all the words, both spoken and unspoken.

Silence is the glue that connects our attitudes and our actions.
Silence is the fullness, not emptiness;
it is not absence, but the awareness of a presence.

~John Chryssavgis

Today is a day of catching-up.

Today is the day I stop procrastinating and finally cross off those two items on my to-do list that I write over and over every day. Today is laundry day and there are five piles of sorted laundry waiting for me. Today is scrub the kitchen floor day. Today is a quick weed the garden day. Today is clean out the refrigerator day.

Today I am embarking on my first afternoon of silence.

This is a plan I hope to make a weekly occurrence throughout the fall. No talking, no phone calls, no text messages, no voice mails, no emails, no computer, no radio, no iPod.

Only the natural quiet.

There will be noises from the neighborhood, birds chirping at the feeders, Jazz meowing to go in or out (wherever it is she isn’t at the moment is where she wants to be.) There is a building project several blocks away and I can hear the hammers pounding.

I have chores that have piled up, I will be busy.

I’m curious to see how mindful I can be of those activities — cleaning, laundry, sweeping, gardening. How hard will it be for me to concentrate on what I am doing for the next four hours?