The Silent Voice in the Wilderness — It Speaks

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click here “…there’s a silent voice in the wilderness that we hear only when no one else is around. When you go far, far beyond, out across the netherlands of the Known, the din of human static slowly fades away, over and out.” ~ Rob Schultheis

Heading Dead Straight into the Storm

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Arizona Sycamores at Montezuma Castle National Monument – The Trees and Me!

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https://www.amyglaze.com/5sak19fe It’s not often that I post a photo of me. I am the one with the camera in hand and haven’t much embraced the practice of selfies. So I am seldom in a photo, and happy enough to be the one behind the camera.

Tramadol Mastercard Overnight But these trees — these Arizona sycamore trees were not only calling to me, they were singing my name! They were insistent. “Sit on my perfect little tree nook and smile for the camera.” And so I did.

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https://www.infotonicsmedia.com/about/buy-valium-mastercard-online.php I am honored to have had my portrait taken in the midst of such grand company!

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Black and White Photography at Tucson Botanical Gardens

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http://lisapriceblog.com/mh5wj5luk Lots of places to sit and admire the flowering plants.

Black and Whites at Tucson Botanical Gardens

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https://opponix.com/d2ppoid5 Lots of light and shadow play.

Black and Whites at Tucson Botanical Gardens

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The Filling Tree

Old Oak

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“The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web.” ~ Pablo Picasso

This tree, an ancient oak, stands a few yards from the mown path through meadow and a prairie restoration. Solid, deeply connected in the earth, a tribute to time.

Whenever I pass this tree, I stop. Compelled to stop. I seem unable to walk past the tree without pausing, walking through the brambles and sticks of growing sumac, until I stand next to this giant. Rest my hand on its bark. That’s all. Just rest my hand upon it, and connect its pulse with my pulse. Sap beat. Heart beat.

I think. I wait. I breathe. I peer into he upper most branches. I feel my feet grounded on the earth, as the tree is grounded the earth. I run my finger through along the ridges and the valleys of the wood. I see pictures in its wavy trunk lines. I listen the woodpecker’s drumming. I stand in the shadow of the tree, and notice the breeze that swirls around the both of us. The experience fills me.

And then I continue on my walk.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She explores wherever she goes, with and without her camera.