connecting with nature

Wood Lilies @2012 Bo Mackison

If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has the power to move you, if the simple things in nature have a message you understand, rejoice for your soul is alive. ~ Elenore Duse

I consider myself to be fortunate as a nature lover.

I do not live on the edge of Yosemite’s majestic landscape nor near the expansive red mazes of Canyonlands National Park, although living near those parks would be a thrill. I do not live near the coastal craggy rocks of Maine nor the sandy beaches of North Carolina, although a bit of time spent gazing at the relentless waves of the Atlantic is on my to-do list. The redwood forests near the Pacific coast have long been a soul-attraction for me, and when I walked under their canopies, I felt as close to a spiritual awakening as I ever have. I have traveled the United States from north to south and east to west, and I’ve fallen in love with so many varied places.

And I am truly blessed. I have a home in a valley near Tucson. When I drive a few miles to the east, I reach the top of a Sky Island in the Santa Rita Mountain Range. I can see the surrounding desert from an altitude of nearly 10,000 feet. When I drive a few miles towards the west, I am in the Sonoran Desert, a landscape that speaks directly to me and provides me with a hard-to-describe centering experience. That is half of my great fortune, and one I appreciate deeply in the winter and early spring.

Now I’m focusing on the other half of my fortune, experiencing the land I’ve lived in and enjoyed for nearly thirty years, but with which I’d never deeply bonded. This summer I am discovering, through the simple act of a daily walk in the early morning, that the beauty of nature can be found everywhere and anywhere. All I had to do was look around me and appreciate the simple things in nature.

I am truly fortunate to live only a few minutes walking distance from a pond formed in the last glacial era which ended nearly 12,000 years ago, and was coincidentally called the Wisconsin Glacier Era. Stricker’s Pond is a kettle pond, a pond formed when a chunk of ice settled in a pocket during the last glacier, and then melted and became a shallow pond when the climate warmed.

On my mile walk around the pond I see Little Green Herons, Blue Herons, Mallards, Canada Geese, Wood Ducks, and many other species of birds, amphibians and small animals. There are aquatic plants in the pond, shore plants along the edges, and a recovering mesic prairie stretching north, filled with compass plants, purple coneflowers, Queen Anne’s Lace, chicory, common mullein, purple lupine, and a half-dozen grasses.

Part of my walk takes me through an ancient stand of oaks where I catch glimpses of critters scurrying through the lush green undergrowth, and find patches of wood lilies and sunflowers fringing the woods’ edge, flowers that lift my heart in gladness.

What a feast for the senses, and all within walking distance of my backyard. Wow!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Yes, wow!

Red in the Rock Garden

A visit to one of my favorite urban gardens, Allen Centennial Garden in the heart of the University of Wisconsin campus, not only gives me the opportunity to photograph lovely spring flowers and blossoming trees, but also the gift of getting close to the earth and discovering small delights in an intricate series of rock gardens.

This is an example of hens and chicks in its red variety. One of my favorite (and most popular photographs at the art fairs I attend) is another photo I took of hens and chicks, the green variety. I love both versions–they seem to play off each other. This red one has more composition, the red succulents playing off the light background of small pastel pebbles and large white rocks. The older photo has an overall pattern of the hens and chicks in varying sizes, and the rocky background has more blue tones. Together I think they make an attractive display.

I love the different stories associated with hens and chicks. I heard the first, a passed down family tale, from my great-grandmother, my Grandma Prudie. She was in her eighties when I was nearing ten and given the job of garden assistant by my grandfather. Prudie would often drag a yard chair out onto the lawn near the long strip of garden on the far side of the property and chat about a variety of topics as I hand pulled the weeds.

One day she told me the story of the hens and chicks plant, her version. The story made a big impression on me. I wrote the story in a black and white composition notebook–my diary–but that notebook long ago disappeared. This is the version that my memory remembers:

“Now these plants, the hens and chicks, these are a “sucky-lent” plant. The little plants “suck” all the life from the mother plants–those are the big center plants. The mothers send out roots and then the little chicks grow. The chicks grow and eventually take over the plant. Then eventually the mother plant dies and the chicks become the mothers. And the growing pattern gets repeated over and over, until the hens and chicks spread throughout the rock garden.” ~Prudence Mackison Willliams

My great-grandmother wasn’t afraid to talk about any topic. I remember conversations about war, jealousy between siblings, religion, marriage and divorce, life and death. She wasn’t a judgmental woman. She thought people did the best they could with what life offered them, and often defended the under dogs of the world.

Grandma Prudie had a hard life, she did many things in her day that weren’t considered womanly things to do, but she was kind-hearted and she was giving; she was an optimist and she lived her life fully. She also loved flowers, and her favorite time of year was when it was flower blooming season.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Bo is thankful to see the spring flowers blooming and the sun shining. She is also recalling the many garden talks she had with her grandparents when she was a child.

Rejoicing with the Wood Lilies

Red in the Rock Garden

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