Sitting on the fence, lots of snow all over Taos County. Took a walk out early this morning as the sun rose over the Sangre de Cristos. I had a thoroughly good time photographing the more abstract elements on the subject of snow. Temperature here at noon today, 18º F. Thanks for looking and stay warm. G
Columbine Hondo Wilderness in the Sangre de Cristo mountains of northern New Mexico. This is what I see on my commute, when I make a commute. This is what I see from our valley. This scene is what I see when I walk out of the local market. My bucket list…? Don’t have one! Heading out tomorrow in the new fallen snow we are getting today. Stay tuned for more images. Thanks for looking. G
Morphing clouds over the western volcanic plateau from Taos, NM. There were so many images posted on social media of the broader sunset. I have a number of those images too. I was more intrigued with this one little detail that represented what was happening in the overall grander view. The clouds were morphing fast as if inspired by the setting sun. They kind of reminded me of a lava lamp. Thanks for looking. G
Valley cottonwoods this evening in San Cristobal. What a difference a week makes. It’s the light that really makes it special, so I turned around about a mile down the road and went back to this favorite spot. It’s not always perfect but being present can make it so. Thanks for looking. G
Venus and the Crescent Moon this morning over the Sangre De Cristo Mountains of New Mexico. There was peace and quiet at six o’clock as Venus and the crescent moon slipped silently above the slumbering pine ridge into the crystal clear lavender dawn. I had the camera shutter on silent mode so as to preserve the lingering tranquility in the frosty air, my breath fogged the LCD. A few more frames and it was time for the local rooster’s wake up call. It didn’t come! My neighbors turkey beat him to it and let out a blood curdling gobble, gobble, gobble, that echoed around the valley. Time for a cup of tea. Below is an image of the moon as it crested the tree line five minutes earlier. Thanks for looking. G
Snow, Snow, Let It Snow. This was a good day for snow in the Carson National Forest. I liked the graphic nature of this image and would like more snow on a regular basis this winter. It’s a favorite time of year to get out making images. The solitude and lack of crowds in the woods and out in the landscape is most appealing. If you’re so inclined, and would enjoy a photo tour this winter into the northern New Mexico or southern Colorado landscape, give me a call or send me an email. As always thank you for looking. G
San Cristobal Valley fall. The fall colors peaked in the valley about a week ago. Now the cottonwoods and aspen trees are stark white, ghosts of their former selves. Another kind of beauty in the coming season. Here’s another image of this location. Thanks for looking. G
San Cristobal Valley Fall – 2265
Last leaves to fall on the aspen tree. This was a couple of days ago here in the garden. The snow took them shortly after I made this image. The last seven leaves on a young aspen in what turned out to be one of the most beautiful autumns I’ve ever seen in the thirty five years I’ve traveled and lived here. I hope yours was as gorgeous where you live. Thanks for looking. G
Valley fog, morning in our home village of San Cristobal, NM. I had to post one more from this day last week. As I was working on the image I decided that I really liked it and wanted to share it. I love the cold, skin tightening, jaw bracing, turn up the lapels, onward into the wind weather of these mornings, which are promising to get very much colder very soon. Thanks for looking. G
San Cristobal Valley Morning Fog – 2119
Cottonwood, red willows and mountain snows, the latter making for a good start to winter. The earth and sky inseparable. The cottonwood leaves, touched by the breeze, grace the ground and gild the red willows, that line the acequia, like ornaments. In spring the ancient irrigation channels will deliver the snow melt, rushing from the mountains, to the fields and trees in the valley. As winter takes a deeper hold, the pace slows, the days grow shorter and life retreats within, for what the Irish writer John O’Donohue refers to as “spring secretly at work within the heart of winter” of restoration and rejuvenation. Thanks for looking. G
John O’Donohue: Thresholds
Cottonwood Red Willows Mountain Snow – 2614
National Monument day out. Days out on the road are memorable, some days more so than others. In the Rio Grande del Norte National Monument around Ute Mountain it can be sublimely memorable. The silence is palpable; the peace and tranquility can be immeasurable and the history is no further than I am able to imagine. Thanks for looking. G
Colors of fall in the Arroyo Hondo Valley, northern New Mexico. Although I pass this spot on the map almost every day, most certainly when I go into town, it’s a joy to see the colors begin to intensify each fall to their absolute peak. Similarly, watching them fade slowly to the other end of the fall color spectrum is equally noteworthy. It has been an incredible fall in northern New Mexico and it’s not over yet. Ask anyone you meet, they’ll agree. I hope you do, and thank you, as always, for looking. G
Encounter with a mule deer doe, over the fence in San Cristobal, NM. A poem by Robert Frost comes to mind. It describes an encounter for two lovers, “Two look at Two.” I’ve posted the poem below. This very brief moment lasted an eternity. I studied Robert Frost in college. I was able to recite this poem, and others by the author, on command. This one, although I can no longer recite the whole piece from memory, resides in my very being and remembering the words verbatim seems redundant. My encounter, “One looked at One.” Thanks for looking G
Two Look At Two.
Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountain side
With night so near, but not much further up.
They must have halted soon in any case
With thoughts of a path back, how rough it was
With rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness;
When they were halted by a tumbled wall
With barbed-wire binding. They stood facing this,
Spending what onward impulse they still had
In One last look the way they must not go,
On up the failing path, where, if a stone
Or earthslide moved at night, it moved itself;
No footstep moved it. ‘This is all,’ they sighed,
Good-night to woods.’ But not so; there was more.
A doe from round a spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall, as near the wall as they.
She saw them in their field, they her in hers.
The difficulty of seeing what stood still,
Like some up-ended boulder split in two,
Was in her clouded eyes; they saw no fear there.
She seemed to think that two thus they were safe.
Then, as if they were something that, though strange,
She could not trouble her mind with too long,
She sighed and passed unscared along the wall.
‘This, then, is all. What more is there to ask?’
But no, not yet. A snort to bid them wait.
A buck from round the spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall as near the wall as they.
This was an antlered buck of lusty nostril,
Not the same doe come back into her place.
He viewed them quizzically with jerks of head,
As if to ask, ‘Why don’t you make some motion?
Or give some sign of life? Because you can’t.
I doubt if you’re as living as you look.”
Thus till he had them almost feeling dared
To stretch a proffering hand — and a spell-breaking.
Then he too passed unscared along the wall.
Two had seen two, whichever side you spoke from.
‘This must be all.’ It was all. Still they stood,
A great wave from it going over them,
As if the earth in one unlooked-for favour
Had made them certain earth returned their love.