Hiking Madera Canyon – and Nature Journal Writing

Alligator Juniper

Alligator Juniper ©2011 Bo Mackison

Another report from one of Southeastern Arizona’s Sky Islands. I hiked the nature trail in Madera Canyon. It’s a well known area for birders from throughout the United States, but I was there in the middle of the day when there were only a few hummers and lesser yellow finches flying from tree to tree. Madera Canyon is in the Santa Rita Mountains and part of the Coronado National Forest, located about 20 miles south of Tucson.

I hiked a trail that was at an elevation of 5ooo feet, in an area called Middle Madera Canyon. A creek runs along the trail, but there was only a bit of water trickling through the creek bed. Mostly there were dried leaves and rocks in the creek, and a few pools of water, inches deep. It’s been an exceptionally dry winter and spring. I’d be curious to know what this creek looks like during a typical spring.

This is a riparian area. It has deciduous trees–mostly the Arizona sycamore and cottonwoods. There are fir trees at this elevation, mostly alligator junipers, and several varieties of oaks. The river runs quite strong most years to support the number of large trees near its banks.

Green Lichen

Green Lichen © 2011 Bo Mackison

Another entry from my thirty minutes of “quiet time” and journaling exercise:

Many rocks, some covered with a light green lichen. There are several large pieces of dark gray slate. Dotted pink/gray granite. Another rock is pink/burnt orange and it has a sand-papery texture.

Sitting along side the creek. Moving water wriggles through the rocks, disappearing under last year’s dried leaves and fallen tree limbs. Moving water shimmers and shakes as it reflects sunlight, light rays bounce from mossy rock to mossy rock.

Still water is a mirror, showing the pool’s depth; it reflects my hand when I reach over the pool.

Two weathered limbs from the sycamore tree, each at least five feet long, are crossed to form a wishbone. Can I make a wish on a tree limb?  I wish . . .  to come back to Arizona next winter.

The sycamore tree’s bark looks like peeling paint flaking off an unpainted Wisconsin barn. Or does the barn look like bark from a mature sycamore tree? Arizona sycamores are different from the sycamores that grew in my neighbors’ yard in western Illinois. This sycamore is much smaller which makes sense as it grows with less moisture. The Arizona tree has smaller pieces of bark–looks like alligator hide.

The bark I remember from my childhood sloughed off the hundred foot tall tree in large pieces, rough and sand-papery, cream with silver gray blotches. As a child I wrote little stories for my grandpa on pieces of bark. My children did the same when they were young, writing “I love you” messages on the bark and offering them to me–gifts from the heart.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is living in Tucson for two months, exhibiting her photography in art shows, taking photographs, and blogging about photography, art fairs, and living life “solo.” She loves the sky islands and plans to visit several more before she returns to the Midwest.

In the Desert – A Journal Writing Discovery

Florals and Cactus

Desert Marigold © 2011 Bo Mackison

The spring flowers are showing a few blossoms. It’s been a quiet season for spring flowers–first there wasn’t enough moisture last autumn and winter and then there was a hard freeze in late January. So these are the first of the flowers I’ve seen. I’ve tentatively identified them as Desert Marigolds. The background is a saguaro cactus.

Now that I’ve been in Arizona a month, I am slowing down my pace a bit. At first, everything I saw was new to me and I carried my camera everywhere. I took hundreds of photos a day. That’s not unusual for me to take that many photos on a shoot, but it’s hard to process that many shots when I’m doing it every day. Plus it makes life too hectic. Still,  I want to capture as much of this experience as I can.

I’ve discovered a solution. I add a half hour of quiet observation and nature writing to my day. Today after I took photographs near Saguaro National Park, I pulled into a picnic area that was quite deserted. The picnic sites were built by the CCC in the 1930s; the tables and benches were made of stone and concrete, probably the sturdiest picnic site I’ve ever seen.

I sat on one of the benches and just watched and listened. After awhile I wrote some notes in my journal.

Noon. 84˚F. Sus Picnic Area, Saguaro National Park, Tucson Mountain Unit west of the city.

Bright blue skies, no clouds, slight breeze. Hawks are circling the tops of the mountains, flying from peak to peak. They don’t appear to be hunting, even though they are on the look out for movement in the desert below them. Indeed, it looks like they are riding the wind currents, more like play than work. Dipping, soaring, then they flap their wings, strong strokes. Then they dip, soar, repeat.

I recognize none of the sounds I hear, except, of course, the wind whistling. There’s a persistent yip yip yipping. Occasionally a chee-chee-cheerup-ing. Birds are singing, but they hide in the underbrush. I don’t see any movement on the desert floor. Nothing. Quiet mid-day. The critters are resting, hidden from the heat and the strong sunlight.

More hawks. I recognize the red tailed hawk. Still soaring, except now they are dipping side to side. Several are soaring from the peak of the highest mountain. They dip to the left, glide, dip to the right. Swoosh, right. Swoosh, left. Are they playing? Practicing? Are they hunting and have yet to spy anything interesting?

Maybe they are taking Sunday afternoon off. Ha! It is a lovely Sunday afternoon to appreciate the quiet time.

I myself soar to different places in my mind.

It is a calming activity–this sitting quietly, observing, taking a few notes. I know I look at my surrounding more carefully when I have my camera in my hands, but the camera captures the scenes for me, wordlessly. It is an added plus to document a few words about the places I visit, too. It makes me think about what I am seeing in a new way, and adds another dimension to my discoveries.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is living in Tucson for two months, exhibiting her photography in art shows, taking photographs, and blogging about photography, art fairs, and living life “solo.”  Today she is grateful for all the gifts she has received this past month.

An Alphabet in Four Parts – III

Cosmos at Sho-Low

Cosmos and Bokeh © 2010 Bo Mackison

Continuing with the third installment of my alphabet, my year-end/beginning musings:

N is for NEST.

NEST. Nest is simple and symbolic. It’s a comfort word for me. I hold it as a quiet space, away from distractions and other people. Sometimes I curl up in my nest, real or imaginary, to recharge my batteries. Doesn’t take long, and then I’m ready to go on and meet the world again.

O is for ORDINARY.

ORDINARY. When you get right down to it, there isn’t much that is ordinary. If you look closely and examine ordinariness, you often find that the ordinary is truly extra-ordinary. For example, drinking a steaming cup of tea, a simple experience, can be made extra-ordinary with intention, mindfulness, and appreciation for the good things in life.

P is for POTATO.

POTATO. The potato provided me with a powerful lesson. Yes, the potato. A basic food, everyone loves potatoes – mashed, smashed, french fried, baked, even raw and crunchy. Everyone I know eats potatoes – except for my older daughter who has taken only one bite of potato in her life. She decided that she despised the texture and taste and she swore off potatoes as a two year old. Twenty-eight years later, she continues to stand by her choice.

Here is the interesting part. Whenever a new person enters her life, and they discover that Jeanne does not eat potatoes because she  chooses not to eat them, they almost always go out of their way to trick her — to get her to unknowingly take a bite of a potato. It becomes a challenge for them.

Interesting, hmm? She tells people she doesn’t like potatoes, that she doesn’t eat them, and because that doesn’t fit squarely with other people’sapproach to food, they want to convince her to join their side. Now, we are talking about potatoes here. I’m always amazed that this happens repeatedly.  It makes me wonder.  If people react so strongly to a different eating style, just how far will they go to make people conform to their way of thinking about the important topics in life. Now there’s a potato for thought.

Q is for QUESTIONS.

QUESTIONS. I love asking questions. I love searching for answers to questions, too. And researching for answers to questions, too. To me, searching and researching are two different methods of knowledge seeking. In searching, I look for answers in my head and in past learning experiences. In researching, I look up what other people have discovered about the subject. Search and research–I think the two methods balances the quest for knowledge quite nicely.

R is for RELINQUISH.

RELINQUISH. I relinquish the story I hold dear. The story of why I am like I am, of how I can’t change because this experience or that exchange marked me for life. Bull hockey. Change isn’t easy. It’s damn hard work. But change is possible. And I am dealing in possibilities from this day forward. Tabula rasa. A clean slate. I can deal with some leftover chalk dust or a few wayward chalk smears, but I am erasing that complicated story. No more worn out explanations that stand in my way of new explorations.

S is for SURVIVOR.

SURVIVOR. I am a survivor. Survivors develop a deep strength within themselves. Sometimes I forget I have this strength. It takes a big challenge to remind me that I can draw strength from my past experiences without dredging up those experiences. A valuable lesson.

T is for TREASURE MAP.

TREASURE MAP. I made a treasure map a few days ago while thinking about leaving 2010 behind and entering 2011. I didn’t write resolutions, but I did choose a single word as my focus for the year – POSSIBILITIES. Then I drew islands on my treasure map. I filled in one island with my dreams. I filled in another island with my desires. I filled in a third with my goals for the next three months, six months, and year. I added a few favorite quotations for inspiration and motivation and a few words clipped from newspaper headlines for guidelines. Then I hung the map in my studio where I can see it everyday as I work. I love treasure maps!

The Finale — Underwear through Zest.

Happy New Year 2011!

Cosmos at Sho-Low

Dancing Pink Cosmos © 2010 Bo Mackison

Here’s to endings and new beginnings.

Cosmos ( the flower’s name) is the opposite of chaos. Wishes to all for less chaos and more harmony in the coming year. So many possibilities, all waiting to unfold…

Happy New Year!

(The last two parts of my New Year alphabet will be in the next two posts…)

An Alphabet in Four Parts – II

Red Yucca Flower

Red Yucca Flower

Continuing the second annual edition of my year-end musings:

G is for GARDENS.

GARDENS. I seem to be naturally attracted to gardens of all kinds. Greenhouse gardens. Perennial gardens. Tropical gardens. Rain gardens. Wild gardens. And desert gardens, too. The photograph of the red yucca in bloom was taken at Tohona Chul Park in Tucson, Arizona, an amazing desert urban garden. I’ve spent many, many hours wandering in gardens, sitting in gardens, working in gardens, and now taking photographs in gardens. I’ve taken so many photographs in all these gardens, when I take Seeded Earth Photography on the road, my art show booth almost looks like a garden.

H is for HOURGLASS.

HOURGLASS. Time passes, second by second, just like the sand passes in an hourglass. How many of those seconds, minutes, hours, have I missed by not being mindful, by not paying attention to the present? Not saying that there isn’t time to goof off, to day dream about the future, to watch the wind blowing in tall grasses or a single leaf flutter to the ground. But I want to keep reminding myself that it does no good to live in the past, to question what might have been, to second guess decisions already made. So – living in the present, noticing the details? Good. Dreaming and planning about the future? Good, too. But…I want to keep the past in the past. Learn from the mistakes I’ve made, but not live in the past with regret.

I is for INKLING.

INKLING. I love inklings, just the briefest grasp of an idea. I love taking that bit and turning it over and over in my mind, letting it gather more and more bits until it’s a full fledged idea. I love ideas. I love mulling over ideas. Sometimes I love the idea more than the implementation of the idea. Sometimes that’s OK. Sometimes I need a push to take my ideas to fruition, to make them real. Seeded Earth was an inkling of an idea for a long time. It came to life as a blog, a place to store a photograph a day for a year. And after that year, I wanted to do more than post photographs on my beloved blog. I wanted to make them real (in print) and I wanted to share them with others. Sometimes those inklings really do turn into reality!

J is for JUICY.

JUICY. I like juicy living. Full of flavors and textures and bright colors, and a certain amount of messiness, but with such glorious rewards.

K is for KINDNESS.

KINDNESS. Being kind to others, yes, but more than that. Also practicing the art of kindness towards myself.

L is for LONG SHOT.

LONG SHOT. Sometimes it’s wise to go for the sure thing. Dribble the ball across mid-court, closer and closer to the hoop. Get your defensive lines all in place. Move in close, focus on the goal, and then make the shot. That’s usually a good plan. But sometimes, you have to go for the long shot, the Hail Mary shot at the end of the buzzer. Once in awhile, it just feels right to take a long shot. Might not make it. But then again, you just might.

M is for MINUTE RICE.

MINUTE RICE. Actually, I don’t eat the stuff–prefer brown rice or long grain white rice or wild rice. But I do have a sock filled with it. I use it for a makeshift tripod when my regular tripod is too heavy to carry while hiking for miles, or too clunky to get past museum guards. These are the kinds of projects I love – the whole DIY craze where you can give one object a completely new use. I use a string and a metal washer for a tripod when desperate. Wax paper or copy paper or aluminum foil achieves different lighting properties. I’ve been accused of using my camera bag as a lunch bag on more than one occasion. Not true. I never put my sandwich in my camera bag!

Next post – Nest through Treasure Map