Timing…9:57 Equinox this morning, up on King Ridge. The atmosphere perfect… the balance and equality of a circle, revealed. Within a few minutes the zenith passed, slowly dissolving back into where ever they come from. I wish you all the renewing energy of Spring and the awareness of another cycle in the great wheel turning.
Light showers and then this surprise of bright soft light. Everything blooming and unfurling, changes each day. “Don’t miss it, they’ll be gone soon”, the siren called again. The hell with these taxes… Todays subject: Iris, the color purple.
Out on the bike today looking for the calm before a series of storms head our way in Northern Cal. I came to a familiar pond that is feed by a now quiet stream. To my delight, the sharp blackness of the Coot contrasted so perfectly with the painterly reflections of the reeds and plants. By tomorrow afternoon, this scene will change into flows of latte colored motion.
Natures change can come swiftly, as it did to our drought stricken landscapes here in Northern California. Subtropical moisture combined with some cold from out of Alaska creating the “Pineapple Express”. What were just dry fields a couple days ago with cattle grazing, became moving lakes in the arroyos. As a photographer, these are events much anticipated. This morning, I was rewarded with the fog lifting, revealing a transformed landscape of reflections and bare winter limbs.
.
Celebrating today this long standing and powerful relationship between horse and human. Loosen the reins, close your eyes and trust.
Following along the Merced River in Yosemite, the evening light was soft and colors rich in fall tone, I came upon a long “slack line’ used by climbers to work on their balance and core strength. This one was an incredible 150-200 yards long. A figure began the traverse. His focus, poise and adeptness completely captivated my attention. I knew I was witnessing a level of mastery.
I slowly approached as not to disturb, although I bet I could have been in a clown suit jumping up and down and it would not have caused a ripple. Ever so gracefully he traversed the line all the way to the end and then to my surprise, spun around, pulled his hoody over his head and began the reverse direction. Incredibly, this would only be his first pass. The light faded and I made my way to my nearby tent at the always tumultuous Camp 4.
Returning home I gazed at the images and it suddenly stuck me. I was not looking at a climber, I was looking at The Man… Alex Honnold considered by most as the finest solo rock climber in the world. At 28 years old, his exploits are legendary, as if he jumped a generation of climbers. I read all I could…just blown away.
How fine to have not known any of this and just be present for awhile, watching a man slowly stepping through space with such exquisite grace and attention. Yes, in the presence of what we are capable of in our own way, with passion and authenticity of spirit.
