Hard Rock, Soft Grass

Hard Rock, Soft Grass FAA

No, not rock and roll and drugs!

More like yin and yang.

Hard and soft, fast and slow. The grass has a fast life, the rock a slow life. I know. Most of us think of the grass as alive, and the rock as not. An understandable misconception, though.

The rock lives its life very slowly, so incredibly slowly that we don’t, or can’t, notice it. And to be fair, mineral life is a very different kind of life, after all. Doesn’t meet the current scientific definition of life, but it does meet the understanding of many indigenous peoples.

So… hard and soft, fast and slow, vegetable and mineral — and humans to observe and ponder and try to figure it all out.

Fun, isn’t it?

This image is from my gallery, Out Here in the Country — check it out when you get a chance because you’ll get to see the full resolution image in all its detail. Plus a little about how I go about creating these images. Just go here.

Into the Sun

Into the Sun FAA

An old dry stream bed, a few of last autumn’s leaves still clinging to some branches, debris from the winter storms littering the ground, and early spring grasses poking through the whole mess and yet…

All it takes is a dramatic light source down low where we can’t ignore it like we can when the sun is high up in the sky, when we so often take what we see for granted as if it were just ordinary.

But then once the sun drops into our line of sight so that we have to flip the visors on our windshields down, or put up our hands to shield our eyes, everything takes on an ethereal glow like we just walked into a realm of spirit.

Which of course we have.

But there’s nothing there that wasn’t there before the light changed. So do we really want to wait until the day we walk into the light to appreciate the magic that’s right in front of us right now?

Just another one of Nature’s helpful hints hiding in ordinariness.

This image is from my gallery, Out Here in the Country — check it out when you get a chance because you’ll get to see the full resolution image in all its detail. Just go here   

West View

West View FAA

It’s the last rays of the sun on one of the last days of winter, and the sky is beginning to light up the clouds with its magical evening glow. The ending of a day, of a season — it’s a time when nature can teach us some of its most profound lessons.

When a day, or a season is old and near its moment of transition when its light will be hidden for a while, that’s when the most spectacular, subtle and brilliant part of the day so often stuns us with its beauty.

But of course the light is never really gone because as the sun is setting for us, it’s rising to a new day somewhere else for someone else.

And not just days and seasons. Know what I mean, Jellybean?

This image is from my gallery, Out Here in the Country — check it out when you get a chance! To see a full resolution image of this digital artwork in full detail or to purchase a high quality print for your home of workplace, either framed or unframed, please go here.

Red Streak

It’s the first days of spring, and in a few more weeks that red streak will turn yellow, then as summer digs in, it’ll be green and lush and home to many kinds of life.

For now though, it slashes straight through the still dormant scene like a pulsing artery bringing nourishment and life force through the seasons. It’s worth keeping that in mind as our world heads deeper into a season of darkness where hope seems to grow more dim with each day.

Even in the severest winter, there is a force which will not be extinguished, keeping life alive, nourishing the roots with love, ensuring a renaissance, and another inevitable springtime as the seasons will surely turn again.

Of course, this isn’t really about the weather. But then you knew that.

This image is from my gallery, Out Here in the Country — check it out when you get a chance! To see a full resolution image of this digital artwork in full detail or to purchase a high quality print for your home of workplace, either framed or unframed, please go hereRed Streak Maple FAA.

Big Maple Stretching by the Road

Big Maple by the Road FAA Small

It’s late winter, and in the slower life rhythm of trees, it’s almost the dawn of spring. Now our maple friend is beginning to stretch and get ready for the new day.

She didn’t get this big and strong by being inflexible and refusing to bend or grow. Even in the dead of winter, when everything seems to have slowed down so much to have virtually stopped, her life cycle keeps moving ahead like clockwork, knowing just what to do and when to do it.

And so, her limbs strengthened by the winds of winter, in her own way she’s looking forward to a new season of growth and warm weather activities ahead. 

I guess just because you’re rooted in one place it doesn’t mean you have to miss out on any of the richness of life.

This image is from my gallery, Out Here in the Country — check it out when you get a chance! To see a full resolution image of this digital artwork in full detail or to purchase a high quality print for your home of workplace, either framed or unframed, please go here.

Sun Set the Woods on Fire

Sun Set the Woods on Fire FAA Small

But it’s not a fire of destruction.

It’s a fire of glory, of beauty, of passion. The passion of love for creation, for what is, for how it all, every bit of it, changes and pulses and lives and moves, vibrates, glows, sings and dances and so much more.

You can’t contain that kind of passion. It combusts spontaneously, sometimes when you least expect it.

Burn, baby, burn.

This image is from my gallery, Out Here in the Country — check it out when you get a chance! To see a full resolution image of this digital artwork in full detail or to purchase a high quality print for your home or workplace, either framed or unframed, please go here.

Leave the Light on For Me

Leave the Light on For Me FAA SmallTwilight. The crack between worlds. A time of power when it’s neither day or night, but something in between. It’s a time when medicine people of many indigenous cultures slip more easily into the vast landscape of spirit.

But it’s a journey that sometimes risks danger, and so the traveler to those far lands does well to have something to call her and guide her back should she risk staying too long. The sound of a drum. Chanting.

A light.

To those who travel in the twilight: look for the drum, the song. Listen for the light.

This image is from my gallery, Out Here in the Country — check it out when you get a chance! To see a full resolution image of this digital artwork in full detail or to purchase a high quality print either framed or unframed, please go here