Early mornings in nature have a positive effect on me. I always return home feeling more of my true self, refreshed, and nurtured by her touch. I want to believe that these times with nature change me in so many ways. It is in the silence and the beauty of nature that help me be aware of my breathing, my physical senses and how much a part of this world I really am. And, these feeble attempts to express in my own words always seems to fall short. Probably the only way to know what I experience is for you to experience it.
nature’s gift painted on a canvas sky the morning’s clouds
mws
I found a place to settle along the ridge, just below the road and above Dixon Reservoir. I lowered my tripod to be just at eye level and sat there among the bluestem grass, rabbitbrush and sage brush. My low perspective was much like that of the cottontails or coyotes. I was surrounded by silence and the spicy, bitter yet inspiring fragrance of the sage. And, Oh, those clouds! I took in slow deep breaths and soaked in the gift of being alive. Within me a prayer stirs and a desire that all the world would experience and partake of these moments nature offers. I could have sat there all day but…the day calls.
I took this image about 8 minutes earlier. This is the predawn sky and the first one is sunrise. Meet Mark for breakfast at 9:00 am then have the staples removed from my head. Rain predicted for later this afternoon. Have a super Awesome day!
Soul has been demoted to a new-age spiritual fantasy or a missionary’s booty, and nature has been treated , at best, as a postcard or a vacation backdrop or, more commonly, as a hardware store or refuse heap. Too many of us lack intimacy with the natural world and with our souls, and consequently we are doing untold damage to both.
Bill Plotkin
I discovered through a friend a place in Wyoming called Red Desert. My Google research shows it is a landscape of buttes, dunes, sagebrush steppe, mountains, and rocky pinnacles located in the south-central portion of Wyoming. My kinda place. At the desert’s heart is the Great Divide Basin—a large depression along the Continental Divide from which surface water does not flow out to either the Atlantic or the Pacific. The majority of this area has no legal protection, and is therefore open to oil and gas exploration and development. Sounds like someplace I’d like to visit before we totally screw it up and do untold damage to it, as Plotkin says.
I found some information from an organization wanting to protect the area from the untold damage Plotkin mentions. They are called Citizens for the Red Desert. You will find some good information about the area, photography and their mission on the website. The Shoshone people called the Red Desert two names. The first is “the place where God ran out of mountains.” The second name: “land of many ponies” relates to the major change in native cultures caused by the introduction of the horse. It looks like a four hour drive from me so I would like to make a visit this summer once my health issues are addressed.
This was taken north of Rock Springs, Wyoming along US Highway 191 on my trip to West Yellowstone last month. A lot of open sagebrush, no trees and almost endless blue sky. You can see for miles and the sagebrush dominates the landscape. You may look at this and think of it as a barren and desolate place, especially if you’re from anywhere east of the Mississippi where trees abound. And when you stop to take in this view you won’t believe the silence that surrounds you. But, even though it is a rugged and harsh environment what you see is a complex of ecosystem. These sagebrush ecosystems provide important food and cover for mammals, birds, reptiles and amphibians, and especially winter habitat for big game species and other wildlife. So probably somewhere in this image is a Black-footed Ferret, Great Basin Gopher Snake, White-tailed Prairie Dog, Greater Short-horned Lizard, Red-tailed hawk or Sage Thrasher. And trust me, somewhere in there is an ant or two or three…
