Rusted Gate

Rusty Gate

Rusted Gate © 2012 Bo Mackison

I beg you to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a foreign language. Don’t search for the answers which would not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

There was a time when my whole life was a question. And I couldn’t find the answer.  And that worried me greatly. I thought it was important, as I had been taught in years of schooling, that finding the correct answer to the question was paramount to success.

It took me many years to realize that there is never only one correct answer to any question of substance. That there are many correct answers depending on who is answering the question.

And then it took me a few more years to realize that it wasn’t always necessary or even in my best interest, to answer every question. Sometimes it was better to only glimpse the answer, just as the courtyard behind the massive, woven gate in the photograph provides only a glimpse of the inner goings-on.

The gate is heavy, it may be old if one associates rust with antiquity, or it may only have been specially treated to look old. The passing of years often speaks of wisdom, of knowing the answers.

Is the gate a gate of protection? If so, the gate provides security, even as it allows a view, the flow of air, a sense of art in the simple yet artistically designed gate.

Life is not always what it seems to be. I think of a gate and anticipate it will bar my way, it will prevent me from finding answers to my questions. Instead, the gate is merely an object on my passage through my day. If I continue long enough on my journey of exploration, I just may live my way into the answers I seek.

Do you have questions you want answered quickly? Can you wait for the answers, even if it takes a lifetime?

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Bo is traveling in Arizona, no longer seeking answers at this time in her life, but simply paying very close attention to the many questions she asks.

Arbor on Adobe – November’s Photo-Heart Connection

Arbor on Adobe

Arbor on Adobe ©2012 Bo Mackison

Your task is not to seek love,
but merely to seek and find
all the barriers within yourself
that you have built against it. ~ Rumi

I love walls, I especially love abode walls. And I love adobe walls that have grape vines creeping all over most of all.There is just something about the combination of a wall with abode and grape vines that makes me grab my camera and check the space on my memory card.

I had an absorbing hour – yes, hour, thank you Sherpa for your patience – taking photographs of this particular adobe wall in Old Town Albuquerque. There were parts of the wall with cracks, parts of the wall with just a bit of the vine, some parts had clusters of blue grapes, some had leaves like this photograph. Together, they combine to tell a lovely story about the wall and the grape-vine.

I chose this as November’s Photo Heart Connection partly because it seemed so fitting for a photograph taken in November – the growing season is over and the vines are leaves are curling, crackling, falling off the vine. And partly because this was Day 3 of a four-day , cross-country trip, and we especially made time to visit Albuquerque instead of zooming through the city while bemoaning the fact that we didn’t have time to stop.

This photograph reminds me that time continues, seasons change, years pass. And if I don’t make time for pauses in a hectic life, make time to enjoy the sights and sounds of life, then I miss out on experiences that make my life meaningful. It pairs well with the above quote from Rumi. I can set up barriers that prevent me from fully partaking in life and love, or I can seek and find those barriers and take them down.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  This is her November Photo-Heart Connection contribution.

Rise Up Rooted

Sycamore III

Sycamore in Black and White ©2012 Bo Mackison

. . . if we surrendered
to earth’s intelligence
we could rise up rooted, like trees.

Instead we entangle ourselves
in knots of our own making
and struggle, lonely and confused.

So, like children, we begin again
to learn from the things,
because they are in God’s heart;
they have never left him.

This is what the things can teach us:
to fall,
patiently to trust our heaviness.
Even a bird has to do that
before he can fly.

-Rainer Maria Rilke from Book of Hours: Love Poems to God

I traveled into the mountains this morning, and walked along the edge of Madera Creek. The creek was dry, or so I imagined, when I began my descent at 5,000 feet. But by the time I had walked a half mile, I noticed damp Sycamore leaves, recently shed from the overhanging trees and dropped into the creek bed.

Another hundred yards and the creek pooled in deeper crevices. Dark and bubbly, it followed a circuitous route as it descended the mountain.

I watched the water swirling around large piles of leaves. Single leaves danced along, bobbing on the water’s surface. I listened to the creek’s song, low and splashing, accompanied by an occasional bird’s song.

The sounds of life, the language of nature.

As Rilke wrote, “if we surrendered to earth’s intelligence, we could rise up rooted, like trees.”

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She continues to explore some of her favorite places and read some of her favorite poets.

Arizona Sycamores in Autumn

Sycamore in Autumn

Arizona Sycamore in Autumn © 2012 Bo Mackison

I live in the desert, but I am only a fifteen minute drive from one of the Sky Islands, the Santa Rita Mountains. And in the riparian area of the Madera Canyon the sycamores are still dressed in their autumn colors.

Madera Canyon

Madera Canyon ©2012 Bo Mackison

Arizona sycamores grow in riparian habitats. In Arizona, these habitats bordering a river or other waterway make up only  one percent of the total land area. Yet these narrow strips along streams and canyon bottoms hold the greatest diversity of plants and animals of any habitat type. Birds and wildlife flock to these areas. Large numbers of plants live in these corridors that cannot survive in the more arid lands.

Madera Canyon

Red and Green in the Riparian Corridor ©2012 Bo Mackison

Riparian areas are often seen as green ribbons in the landscape. But in autumn, they take on a different character, a mix of green and red. The leaves are already falling though. Soon the riparian areas will return to their more typical green.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She has returned to her winter home in the Sonoran Desert and is already exploring her favorite places.

Traveling through the Mountains

Coronado Trail in the White Mountains

Coronado Trail in the White Mountains ©2012 Bo Mackison

“A traveler without observation is a bird without wings.”  ~ Moslil Eddin Saadi      

Day 3. More notes from my travel log.

We leave Albuquerque. It is 5:55 am and it’s a bit chilly – 45˚F. It is still dark, though there is the barest hint of light in the eastern sky.

We begin by traveling south on Interstate 25, but after 80 miles, we choose a scenic route on a state highway. The trip will be a few hours longer but more interesting. I have a hard time resisting a 120 mile scenic drive through mountains!

As soon as we turn off the busy interstate, I find myself breathing more deeply, my eyes become clearer and I can see further. I feel calmer driving on the less traveled roads, seeing the locals and an occasional traveler, stopping frequently to take a few photographs.

We climb in elevation as we approach the White Mountains. It is still early morning, still cool and getting colder. As we drive near the Magdalena Mountains – highest peak is South Baldy at 10,783′ – we are at 6700′ and the temperature has dropped to 23˚. Sky islands!

We keep seeing signs for “VLA” – not sure what that means. Finally we come to a high plains that has a Very Large Array of radio satellite dishes. I feel like we are traveling on the moon!

We pass Historic Hoof Highway – a trail developed in 1885. It once connected Springerville, Arizona, to Magdalena, New Mexico, a distance of 130 miles. There were supplies and a well every ten miles – a rather adventurous plan – but thousands of livestock passed those miles in good health because of the Hoof Highway.

Not only are there junipers and cedars now, there are Ponderosa pines. Telephone pole pines.

I wonder if there is a hand-held device that tells the altitude? I’m often curious about the altitude when I travel, especially when I’m hiking up and down mountain trails.

We drive across the Continental Divide.

Pie Town, New Mexico
Cross the New Mexico/Arizona border at 10:21 am.
Coyote Wash (dry)

Escadillo Mountain, the highest peak is 10,992′. First snow we have seen covers its peak.
Springerville, AZ, founded in 1870, elevation 6973′. Last chance for gas for 120 miles.

We turn south and drive 120 miles on the Coronado Trail, from Springerville to Clifton. It is a road that thinks it is a roller coaster.

Roosevelt Lake
Nutrioso Creek (water)
Cambell Blue Wash (water)
Hannagan Creek (water)

We begin in the high plains, drive for several hours through the White Mountains and finally reach the Chihuahuan Desert. From Ponderosa pine and sycamores dressed in their autumn yellow to prickly pear, barrel cacti and ocotillo in a few hours.

Eagle River (dry)
San Simon River (dry)

There are cotton fields in Safford – elevation 2920′. Some is already picked and wrapped in huge rolls, ready for truck hauling. Other fields are have dark plants half white with fluff of cotton.

We turn on I-10 — now it’s a straight shot across half the state to the Tucson area.

Stockton Wash (dry)
Adams Peak Wash (dry)
San Pedro River (dry)
Cienega Creek (dry)

We turn off the interstate at Sahuarita. It is 4:05. Sunny and warm. 80˚F.

The pecan trees in the orchards are still green, though a few of their leaves are yellowing.

In another 10 minutes we are at our destination. We walk the neighborhood, watch the sun set behind the mountain ridge, finally unpack the car.

We traveled 1963 miles over 4 days. (First leg of the trip was on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, when we drove 300 miles straight south to celebrate with the family before leaving for the Southwest.)

It is 81˚F.

I am back home in the desert!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  Happy! Home!