sea suds



I studied how to use the clothes washer. The handy instructions on the lid helped; so did the box of suds. It instructed me to separate the whites from the coloreds. Laundry will be the last American institution to desegregate. 
Huston Piner


a walk to the falls

Still reliving our Sunday hike through the woods with two wonderful waterfalls to entice us.


We enjoyed the stroll perhaps at a slightly faster clip than this wood snail. I did try to identify it since it isn’t your ordinary garden snail, but I couldn’t find one that looked quite like this one.


a rather shy little salmonberry


a gurgling creek below Golden Falls, its song drowned out by the nearby roar of the falls


Golden Falls – there was an additional trail we could have taken to the top, but I wasn’t in shape for an elevation gain of close to 400 ft (120 m).


Eric spotted this Pileated Woodpecker way off on a distant snag. I couldn’t even see it without the help of the zoom lens. It’s such fun to have old eagle-eye for a guide!


Pacific Waterleaf – Hydrophyllum tenuipes


a glimpse of Silver Falls through the trees


Silver Falls


couldn’t miss the tiny falls in the bottom right corner


the Thimbleberries seem to be slowest to ripen


yet another one I tried to identify without success – a Monkey Flower (thanks for the ID Lynn!!)


but couldn’t miss with this wild Columbine.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.
Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte



infinite shades of green

More Dr Seuss trees…



…but with a better look at the understory…


ferns galore



Oregon oxalis






What old growth forest looks like…


The Douglas fir seems to reach for the sky.

We took a day off on a Sunday (still waiting for the permit before it’s back to work) and hiked the trails to Golden and Silver Falls State Natural Area near Coos Bay, Oregon. The day was perfect for shooting in this lush forest. A bit overcast, but utterly pleasant for an afternoon walk. It did start to rain as we walked back to the pickup. I’ve saved the visuals of the falls for later. This time of year they were simply spectacular.

I identified the plant life I can name, but if someone can remove any bits of ignorance, please do so…. 😀

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things, does the heart find its morning and is refreshed. 
Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet



Such a strange name… I always want to say it to rhyme with hatchets, but… (pronounced YAH-hots)!


Where the Yachats river runs into the Pacific


The day driving down from the north was perfect. Lots of perfect clouds and mist, the wind was reasonably mild and it was relatively warm for summertime.


See if you can find the woman down on the rocks for scale. (Hint: she’s wearing turquoise colored clothes.)

Perhaps, after all, our best thoughts come when we are alone. It is good to listen, not to voices but to the wind blowing, to the brook running cool over polished stones, to bees drowsy with the weight of pollen. If we attend to the music of the earth, we reach serenity. And then, in some unexplained way, we share it with others. 
Gladys Taber

berry picking

We caught this Cedar Waxwing enjoying some salmonberries.

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Wendell Berry, The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

mystery plant

Can anyone out there tell me what this flower/plant might be?


a closer look…


The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.
John Muir

poppy glow

There’s just something about sunshine making the California poppies glow…

When you have once seen the glow of happiness on the face of a beloved person, you know that a man can have no vocation but to awaken that light on the faces surrounding him. In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. 
Albert Camus

patterns in the sand

We took a day off while waiting for approval on a permit. The weather was lovely for playing on the beach. The tide was low. The wind was bearable. A few more fluffy clouds might have been nice, but all in all it was perfect…

Blanco-1232What a wonderful world it is.

No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself. 
Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own / Three Guineas

little bits of sunshine

The goldfinches are back with their canary yellow plumage…


A sure sign that summer is finally drawing near.


There are a whole lot of them hanging around the old neighborhood. They make quite a cheerful racket.


The grosbeaks seem to like the neighbor’s weeping willow.


What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. These are but trifles, to be sure; but scattered along life’s pathway, the good they do is inconceivable. 
Joseph Addison

the Eagles’ nest

I’m thinking this might very well be the last time I get to watch over this Bald Eagles’ nest before I move south. This will be the fourth season I’ve anxiously watched for a sighting of the new eaglets. Each of the first two years they had only the one chick. Last year it looked like they successfully fledged two. Still waiting to see what they produce this year.

Lucky catch of one of the adults flying from the roost tree to the nest.


For a point of reference, the above shot is taken from across the river with my 300 mm lens. I can just barely make out the eagles in the nest without the long lens. All the previous shots in the slide show were pretty heavily cropped.

You ought not to be rude to an eagle, when you are only the size of a hobbit, and are up in his eyrie at night! 
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

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