Rays of Sunlight

Rays of Sunlight © 2012 Bo Mackison

Rays of Sunlight © 2012 Bo Mackison

Spiritual and creative journeys are not so much about growing in certainty — in many ways it is about growing less certain — it is about about learning how to move deeply into the heart of mystery, into the great unknown.

During the first few days of each new month, I look for a photograph for Photo-Heart Connection from last month’s photos. I look for one that speaks to me in a special way, perhaps one with a message I overlooked the first time I worked with the photograph. Here is my choice from the many photos I took in March.

I took this photograph of three simply carved chairs in the stunningly decorated church at the Mission of San Xavier del Bac, just south of Tucson, Arizona.  Construction of the church began in 1783 and was completed fourteen years later. It is the oldest intact European structure in Arizona and is a National Historic Landmark.

The church is filled with original, hand carved statuary and murals on many of the walls – many of the murals depict items that could not be obtained in 18th century Arizona. There are paintings delicately rendered as substitutes for wall coverings, draperies, wood, and marbled surfaces.  Dozens of statues were also hand carved, painted, and then finished with materials brought from Spanish missionaries from Mexico into Arizona.

Whenever I take photographs of the Mission at Xavier del Bac or other holy places, I am often filled with a depth of connection and  spirituality that I seldom encounter in other buildings.

When I took this photograph of the sacristy, I was aware of the rays of sunshine illuminating the armrests of two of the chairs. I loved the contrast, the symbolic meaning of light opening a dark space. When I checked the photos on my computer, again the contrast struck me — this time between the ornate — the heavily ornamented walls and niches — and the simple — the carved chairs illuminated by a shaft of light coming through one of the few windows.

It was a photograph that made a heart (and soul) connection.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She has been living in southern Arizona for the last two and a half months, and has taken many photographs of holy and sacred places. She joins other photographers at Kat Eye Studio and posts a photo taken the prior month that “connects with her heart’ during the first few days of the new month.

 


Lessons from Desert Flowers

Rock Gilia

Rock Gilia © 2012 Bo Mackison

       The desert’s beauty suggests patience and struggle and endurance. Even in the brightest colors of its brief spring flowers, there is something austere. ~ from The Desert Year by Joseph Wood Krutch

Most of the desert flowers are mere specks on the ground. If there are dozens of them, the color is fairly noticeable, but if there are only two or three quarter-inch blossoms sprawling against a bit of green leaf and a lot of gravelly desert floor, it takes some careful observations to see those pretty little things. Of course, in the desert, the smaller, the better chance at survival. A flower, or leaf on a shrub for that matter, that is minute requires considerably less moisture for survival than a flower or leaf a hundred times that size. Adaptation of the species, as we know it.

Blooming Aloe

Blooming Aloe © 2012 Bo Mackison

Notice how present a flower is, how it has surrendered to life. ~ Eckhart Tolle

Of course, the cacti and the succulents found in the desert have a totally different way to guarantee a flowering season, necessary for the continuation of the species. (No flowers, no seeds. No seed, no new flower).

This aloe is a succulent and has adaptive measures for desert survival. Succulents (and cacti, too) have the ability to suck up water when it does rain and then store it in large quantities. These plants send shallow roots in a wide circumference around the plant, and so the root absorbs the water before it evaporates. And when a succulent, like this bright-orange, flowering aloe, traps water in its system, its waxy surface helps keep the water in the plant and reduces water lost to evaporation.

We humans could learn much by consulting with nature and her ways:

  • Assess our weaknesses and strengths – bolster our weaknesses and play to our strengths.
  • Be resourceful and use our resources wisely. Do not use more natural resources than we need. Consider needs vs. wants.
  • Share your beauty, whether it be small and hidden, delicate and ethereal, or bright and showy.

 

Yucca Candelabra

Yucca Candalabria

Yucca candelabra © 2012 Bo Mackison

Knowledge was inherent in all things. The world was a library and its books were the stones, leaves, grasses, brooks . . . We learned to do what only the students of nature ever learn, and that was to feel beauty.    ~ Luther Standing Bear

Yuccas are a common plant in the United States Southwest, so common that it is the state flower of New Mexico.

The leaves of the Yucca are long, narrow, and come to a sharp point. (I have proof – deep scratches on my arms. When will I learn!!)

Fibers of the yucca can be used to make rope and loosely woven textiles. The thick root can be beaten into a lathery pulp which is then used for soap and shampoo. It was a plant that was frequently planted near homesteads and encampments for its usefulness.

When the yucca blossoms, creamy-colored, bell shaped flowers hang in loosely arranged clusters. If the flowers are pollinated, seed-filled capsules develop. The yucca then dies after flowering and fruiting, but produces offshoots that spread out from the mother plant and develop into new plants.

The yuccas only known pollinator is the yucca moth. The female yucca moth has a specialized mouth to collect the pollen.  She lays her eggs in the yucca flower and covers the eggs with a ball of pollen. The pollen fertilizes the seeds which then begin to develop. The moth’s larvae require the yucca seeds for growth and development. Both species, the yucca and the yucca moth, benefit from the exchange. This inter-dependence on each other for survival is termed mutualism.

It is quite a lovely thing, to walk or drive down nearly any street and see the yucca blossoms swinging high in the air, atop the yucca stalk.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. She is happy to see  so many plants in bloom.

Hiking Sabino Canyon

Yipes Stripes

Yipes Stripes © 2012 Bo Mackison

On a sunny, 80˚ day in March, Sherpa and I agreed it was a great day for a hike, especially a hike that had a bit of a cheat to it. We hiked the Phoneline Trail in Sabino Canyon, a gorgeous canyon in the Santa Catalina Mountains bordering Tucson. Our cheat was this — we paid a few bucks each for a ride on the shuttle which comfortably took us from the Sabino Canyon Visitor Center to the top of the line, stop #9. We figured once we were up on the mountain, it would be an easy hike down.

I love this photo of Sherpa with the many variations of stripes. Stripe shadows, stripes from the ramada on Sherpa’s shirt, and he’s even wearing a shirt with horizontal stripes. “Yipes, stripes” is right. I was seeing stripes for most of the shuttle ride.

End of the Shuttle Run

End of the Shuttle Run © 2012 Bo Mackison

As the tram takes you deeper and deeper into the canyon, the world of natural beauty feels immense. Towering mountains, rocky ledges, saguaro reaching up. This is another sky island, once of several dozen in southern Arizona and northern Sonora, Mexico. Desert at the lowest levels, a juniper, pine, and rocky habitat at the top.

The Hike Begins

The Hike Begins © 2012 Bo Mackison

This trail starts at the end of the paved road. A half mile climb of ever-upward-reaching switchbacks takes us to the main Phoneline Trail. Once there, the trail follows the road, only several hundred feet higher. It isn’t a hard hike, but there are gentle ups and downs throughout the “descent” and several hundred boulders to help you climb up or climb down.

The Peak

The Peak © 2012 Bo Mackison

Once we climbed high enough, we could look to the north and see Mount Lemmon, the highest mountain peak in the Tucson area. If we had been really ambitious — and 30 years younger — perhaps we would have climbed up and over. But since neither the ambition or the age was happening, we took a lot of long looks from the trail we were on.

Eye Level with a 40 Foot Tall Saguaro

Eye Level with a 40 Foot Tall Saguaro © 2012 Bo Mackison

There is one tricky thing about hiking on a desert oasis on a mountain trail. The saguaro are conveniently within grabbing distance if one was to lose their balance. I started to reach out for a steadying cactus arm more than once before I realized what I was doing and quickly pulled away. This saguaro was a forty footer, but at my eye level on the trail I could see the upper third in great detail. Wow! Imagine what it will look like in another month, full of white cactus blooms.

Switchbacks on the Sabino Canyon Trail

Switchbacks on the Sabino Canyon Trail © 2012 Bo Mackison

We looked back and laughed when we saw the trail we had just hiked, snaking up and down, switch-backing a mere 200 feet in elevation in a half mile.

It Seems the Trail Always Climbs Uphill

It Seems the Trail Always Climbs Uphill © 2012 Bo Mackison

Rocks, rocks, and more rocks. Careful here to not trip and stumble, as the fall would be a long one. Since this area had a foot of snow earlier this week, the trail was bordered by lots of green — bushes, trees leafing out, wildflowers everywhere.

Wildflowers Along the Trail

Wildflowers Along the Trail © 2012 Bo Mackison

We both had had our exercise for the day when we reached the picnic area near the Visitor Center. And let me say — my peanut butter and strawberry jam on thick whole wheat never tasted better. And that cold bottle of water — perfect!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, is living in southern Arizona,  photographing and hiking the sky islands and giving thanks that she can see such sights.

 

Mexican Tree Flower

Mexican Tree Sunflower

Mexican Tree Sunflower © 2012 Bo Mackison

Nature can be trusted to work her own miracle in the heart of any man whose daily task keeps him alone among her sights, sounds and silences. ~ Gene Stratton Porter

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. She had never seen a sunflower tree until last week, but now she has.