A phainopepla and a house finch take refuge in the sprawling arms of an old ocotillo, which also nestle a young-ish saguaro as its older aunts and uncles look on from afar.
π·: Sony A6600 | Sony 100-400mm | Sony 1.4X
ποΈ: October 26, 2023
Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
A while back I decided to not use my leave of absence as a trial retirement but instead to let my mind go quiet for a while. There’s a part of myself I’ve kept in hibernation for a very long while and I’m not ready to let him rise from slumber, as if he stirs it will be too hard to go back to work for the year or so before real retirement. I have relented a little in the weeks of leave that remain, small awakenings I don’t think I’ll regret. One that caught me by surprise was a desire to play around with black-and-white photography as usually I only shoot it in desperation. I don’t think I’ll ever shoot much of it, the point is to let my mind wander into new territory, but not only did I love this quick snap of The Muppet as Bear and I hiked in the desert, so far it’s my favorite picture I’ve taken of this saguaro.
π·: Nikon Z fc | Nikon 16-50mm DX
ποΈ: November 21, 2023
We had a dry summer so the desert flora is looking pretty parched, some saguaros are pretty gaunt but visually I notice it most in chain fruit cholla. They are also known as jumping cholla due to the ease with which they attack passers by, but I like the chain fruit name since it highlights their most distinctive feature: their fruit grows in chains. Pretty shriveled up here but I like photographing nature in all its states, not just the pretty ones.
π·: Nikon Z 7II | Nikon 105mm macro
ποΈ: October 30, 2023
High on a snow-covered mountain I came across this secluded retreat, only the wooden door hinting at the dwelling behind, carved into the sheer cliff face. I wondered who would answer if I approached and knocked. Perhaps a desert ascetic meditating in the highest places. Perhaps a mystic who removed themselves from the world to better understand it, waiting to answer all my questions. Perhaps this is where all the rattlesnakes go to wait out the winter.
I decided not to knock.
π·: Nikon Z fc | Nikon 105mm macro
ποΈ: December 12, 2023
I was thinking of Latourell Falls in Oregon when I took this picture, there’s a rock face beside the waterfall completely coated in yellow lichen. The gray wood stood in for the high cliff face, and while the lichen here is but sparse compared to its Oregon counterpart, it is a little more moist beside a waterfall than on a dead tree in the desert.
π·: Nikon Z 7II | Nikon 105mm macro
ποΈ: November 29, 2023
As I stared down the borehole of one of my favorite pieces of art, it felt more like I was photographing The Big Bang rather than the aftermath of a bunch of small ones. The hole was only 4 or 5 feet off the ground and the old saguaro’s skin hardened around it. I’d photograph these more but sadly I have not yet gotten my wish to be 50 feet tall and/or to have wings, but fingers crossed for 2024!
π·: Nikon Z 7II | Nikon 105mm macro
ποΈ: December 3, 2023
As someone who loved even the ubiquitous rain in Portland, rain in the desert is quite special to me. When I woke to rain last month I waited for it to slow then hurried into the backyard for some macro shots of one of our saguaros. I had to work fast, the spines dry quickly and lose the wonderful colors, a couple have already dried here. The water drops on the skin evaporate quickly and gravity is constantly tugging at the drops dripping from the spines. One day I’ll play around with a watering can to get just the right droplets on my favorite areole, perhaps a fun project for a day when my mobility is limited, but that’s not what I wanted here. I didn’t want a picture of water drops on a saguaro, I wanted a picture of the rain.
π·: Nikon Z 7II | Nikon 105mm macro
ποΈ: November 18, 2023
I have this romantic notion of photographing every saguaro I can see from the trails, however there are a lot more of them than there are of me so until that changes I’ll have to settle for my favorites. I’ve had my eye on this saguaro for a while, in this little area the skin has hardened around the areoles but deep in the pleats the skin remains supple. While the Valley of the Sun isn’t known for being green, Portland certainly was, and for me the hardened skin looming over the soft flesh is an homage to the lush Willamette Valley nestled beneath the Cascades, the few areoles with spikes sticking out standing in for the occasionally irritable volcanoes.
I’ve seen several new species this year while walking Bear, from a gray fox to a chuckwalla to this, the Sonoran alligator. Like it’s cousin in the marshes and swamps of the American South, our desert variety has eyes and nostrils at the top of its head, allowing it to lay still submerged beneath the desert floor. It was quite relaxed around Bear as the wildlife strangely often are, it smiled for the camera and showed off its fearsome maw but it was more curious than alarmed. Even so when I heard its stomach rumble I made my apologies and we continued down the path.
π·: Nikon Z 7II | Nikon 105mm macro
ποΈ: November 9, 2023