Tree Walkers

Reflection in Sugar River

Reflection in Sugar River

Oh to be free of myself,
With nothing left to remember,
To have my heart as bare
As a tree in December;

Resting, as a tree rests
After its leaves are gone,
Waiting no more for a rain at night
Nor for the red at dawn…

~~Sara Teasdale, from “The Tree”

Pine Forest

After the Snow Storm

After the Snow Storm


We all travel the milky way together, trees and men… trees are travellers, in the ordinary sense.  They make journeys, not very extensive ones, it is true:  but our own little comes and goes are only little more than tree-wavings – many of them not so much.  ~John Muir, Scribner’s Monthly, November 1878

A Courtyard Full of Trees

All in a Row

Planted All in a Row

Impressionist Autumn

Impressionist Autumn

Impression of Autumn © 2008 Bo Mackison

I spend much of my photography time working to get detail-sharp photographs. But Saturday we were driving in the country when we came upon eight sandhill cranes strutting about in a just-harvested cornfield, feeding on the leftovers. I had my camera in my lap, but wasn’t planning on taking any shots, so though I clicked away, I didn’t have enough time to change the manual settings.

When I checked the photos, sure enough, all the cranes were a bit out of focus. Even though I had focused on the birds, they weren’t exactly posing still for me. They were busy fluttering, and pecking corn from the ground, and nudging each other. But I noticed the trees in the background and was drawn to their impressionist style. So I did a rather drastic crop.

Couldn’t pass up the opportunity to share, even though my husband, now a Photo Sherpa with a year of experience behind him, informed me that the photo wasn’t in focus.

I know.

I still like it.

Stormy Weather Doesn’t Dim Beauty

Yellow Aspen in the Rockies

Yellow Aspen in the Rockies ©2008 Bo Mackison

All day the clouds hung heavy over the Rockies. We hit rain driving through the passes, but we could see snow accumulating on the higher peaks above 9000 feet.

Our campsite straddled the Colorado River and the train tracks hugged the canyon walls across the river. Between the rushing waters (why does the sound of running water cause that biological trigger?) and the howling, screech-braking trains passing through a half dozen times, sleep was frequently interrupted. Amazingly enough, it was never hard to fall back aleep – over and over and over.