Photo Journal

Heart of the World

As long as I live, I'll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I'll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I'll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can.

John Muir

Cardinal at Fall Creek Falls

You called with a tiny voice

rising cheerfully through the woods,

your little red-winged body blazing bright

against a backdrop of misty blue and green,

the clear notes of your song

ringing above the thunderous drumbeat

of water falling on stone

in the canyon floor below.

You were a wonder as great

as the magnificent cascade at your back -

calmly balanced there on the edge

of a cliff

singing that familiar tune.

I will always remember you

lingering there a moment

As the mist from the great waterfall

kissed my face - and I smiled.

Then your wings took you away.

Fall Creek Falls State Park, Tennessee.

The falls in this park are mostly below you in a deep gorge.

A magical place where the rainbows are below you

I stopped at this park, Fall Creek Falls, in Tennessee for a couple of nights on my way home to Michigan. It rained hard both nights I was there - but during the day, there was just enough respite from the rain to get in some long hikes. I loved other places I visited on the way, but this park was really something special. It is well cared for and loved by everyone who works and volunteers there, and I had such a good experience being there. I hope I get a chance to go back.

I hope you had a good winter and spring! I hope you get outside wherever you live and find something that takes your breath away or at least makes you smile every single day. Just a few minutes of respite from whatever worries you. I’ll try to do the same, and I’ll see you here again soon.

“Every day I walk out into the world / to be dazzled, then to be reflective.”
— Mary Oliver

A Fieldtrip to Fairchild

One of the most delightful things about a garden is the anticipation it provides.

W. E. Johns

I took a day-long field trip to the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden in South Miami last week. I didn’t know what to expect, but what I found was magic. I also found shade, a series of small lakes, a huge variety of palm trees, a spiny forest, a rain forest, lots and lots of lizards, lots of birds, and a few heart pounding moments…

A curious little lizard greeted me just outside the visitor center.

To see we must forget the name of the thing we are looking at.

Claude Monet

(This isn’t hard when you don’t actually know what it is. A beautiful flower by any name.)

Peeking out.

A gulf fritillary butterfly lands on a cactus blossom in the Spiny Forest garden.

An iguana finds a place in the sun.

Tropical water lilies reflect in a tranquil pond.

Beneath the fig trees it’s another world.

The lower gardens look inviting from the overlook.

I step into the lower gardens with the Egyptian Goose.

A very long iguana crawls beneath the mangroves.

A great egret creeps up to the water’s edge.

A white ibis looks over its shoulder suspiciously.

The unexpected happens - an apparently sleeping crocodile stands up and walks across the path in front of me.

I continue take pictures while internally freaking out.

Then the ibises, who were suspicious and wary of me, follow the crocodile across the path…

and I was worried that I was too close.

Nature, for me is raw and dangerous and difficult and beautiful and unnerving.

Andy Goldsworth

It is easy to forget, when you are surrounded by beauty, that nature is unpredictable and definitely NOT always safe, even here in this beautifully planned and well-maintained garden. That is part of the appeal of exploring outdoors to me - the demand that I take it seriously and weigh the dangers against my desire to see everything. I think I stayed far enough away from the crocodiles at this garden. I did not walk closer to the one I saw crossing the path. I turned around and went back the way I came after taking these photos. Of course, that’s how I saw the next crocodile…

This was a photo-heavy post. I hope it all comes through ok. I was just so excited to share the whole experience. Thanks so much for being here. I will see you next week!

P.S. The ibises were fine. They wandered around near the crocodile for a few minutes, and then just walked away and back down the path.

P.P.S. If you’re interested in Fairchild Gardens, click here.

A parting shot - this crocodile was across the pond from me - much further away than it might appear. I loved the symmetry with its reflection in the water. Its mouth is open, which looks menacing, but it was completely still. {They keep their mouths open when lying in the sun to help regulate their body temperature.)

An Abundance of Seagulls

Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.

Wallace Stevens

Seagulls flying over the lake, circling and calling.

Video of Seagulls circling over the lake in the early morning of June 9, 2023

Seagulls landing and fighting on the big flat rock where they all want to stand.

So many seagulls, more than I’ve ever seen here.

Why are they here? Why are they circling?

Last week I was certain they were escaping poor air in other places caused by the wildfires in Canada.

Seagulls floating on the water on a calm day, a pinkish haze in the air. I watch them, take pictures and muse.

This morning I walked down to the beach and found that hundreds of dead alewives* washed up overnight. Is this why the seagulls are here in abundance this year? Have they been tracking the alewives all this time? Or is it the wildfires? I’m not sure now. I was convinced when I took the first photos of the gulls that they were escaping bad air in other places, but today I realized there could be more to it.

I’m constantly amazed at what is happening all around me every day, under the surface. The things that birds and other animals know instinctively for their survival, that I can only guess at. Amazed by the world underneath the water, teeming with so much life that I can’t see. It fills me with curiosity and wonder. I hope it does the same for you!

*Thanks to my friend, Kat Needham, for identifying the fish for me. If you want to know more about alewives, click here.

We still do not know one thousandth of one percent of what nature has revealed to us.

Albert Einstein

Thank you so much for being here! See you next Friday.