Endangered

Michigan Monkey Flower and Forget-me-nots

I went to small piece of land that the Little Traverse Conservancy has set aside, looking for the rare and endangered Michigan Monkey Flower. Seems it only grows in mucky soil and sand that is saturated or covered by cold, flowing spring water. Conservationists only know of 12 sites in Michigan where the plant grows.
I don't know about you but I can relate to the Michigan Monkey Flower. I feel endangered — in the sense that I often feel like there aren't many folks out there that can relate to how I see the world. I'm really not trying to be "artsy" or "different", I'm just trying to do what feels natural to me.
Sorry I'm in a bit of a self pity mode — got to shake it off.
But I tell you what really keeps me going is that cool spring water I'm growing in. You know, that one thing I can always count on making sense in my life — "but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” I'm very thankful for that water!

Looking Up

This time of year it's real easy to spend your time looking at what's around your feet. The woodland wildflowers have just a couple weeks to soak in the sun and tempt the insects with their beauty and fragrance before the canopy of maples and beeches block out the sky. Spring beauties, dutchman's breeches, trout lilies, trilliums, and marsh marigolds are occupying every inch of forest floor and their colors and shapes are intoxicating for photographers as well as insects.
I walked up the ravine to the hills where the big beeches live just to find a place to sit and enjoy the breeze. I've often found that if I just relax and observe for a few minutes I'll begin to see new things or old things in new ways. I looked up at a nearby beech tree that had a muscular trunk and then re-focused my eyes on the twigs of sapling beeches that filled space like baby's breath in a bouquet. I've looked at these beeches for years and I'm sure I've seen these leaves emerging before, but today, I really saw them — I took time to enjoy them.
I always look forward to the arrival of the wildflowers in the Spring and I'm sure I always will. But now there's something new to look forward to.

Delicate and Strong

What do you do when it rains? Take photos — what else? It's a great time to go to the beach because you don't get trampled by families carrying coolers, bags of float toys, and beach chairs — and did I mention, getting skewered by beach umbrellas?
The light is nice and soft so it's a great time to look for soft subjects. In the back dunes there are little hollows and in the little hollows lie delicate flowers called Harebells — sounds like the beginning of a fairytale doesn't it? The blossoms, although modest in size, seem too large to be held up by their whispy stems. The blossoms shake their heads at the slightest breeze. A pale blue color fits with their simple elegant curves. But looks are deceiving. If you go back to one of my first entries you'll see a photo of a Harebell that I took in November (November 23, 2008) — after a light snow had fallen. Next time you're at the beach take a walk in dunes behind the crowds of sunbathers and look for the delicate and strong Harebell

The First Warm Day

We all wait for it. A 70 degree day in April. Well, if you live north of Latitude 45° you wait for it — anxiously. And the northern hardwoods waste no time waking up. There are many plants that have a small window of opportunity. Before the mighty maples, beech, ash, and oak block the sun with their foliage the plants of the forest floor have to mature, bloom, and pollinate. Just a little pressure!

I love to just lay on the warm matte of old leaves and get the bug's eye view of the baby trout lilies, spring beauties, trilliums, and dutchman's breeches. Of course my wonderful wife always laughs when I walk in the door after one of my lazy afternoons amongst my green friends because along with the more notable plants a very pungent plant called the wild leek thrives and it imparts a wonderful scent on my bluejeans and sweatshirt. Just nature's version of Old Spice, I say. I real turn-on, right?

Enough of the wild woods talk. I'm working out there. And I think I have some good images to show for it. And the next time you're out for your Spring walk-in-the-woods. Don't be afraid to stop and take a rest in the warm matte of leaves.

Little Things

Why does a small wildflower bloom in the middle of November? Walking through the back dunes of Petoskey State Park a couple days ago I came across a harebell blooming on the side of a dune. Maybe there was just enough heat energy left in the sand to encourage the plant to produce one more bloom. The insects that may pollinate such a plant are certainly long gone. So you may say that this bloom is wasted. But it wasn't wasted on me. I felt like it was just there for me to enjoy — an audience of one.

And speaking of singularity, This one seed pod floated along the shore and somehow I felt obligated to pick it up and place it on a small piece of driftwood just to honor it's travels — a long way from mother maple. I'm sure by now it has been picked up by the wind and planted itself along one of the many streams that flow into Little Traverse Bay. Someday my grandson will play in its branches.