Moss & Stone

Cold, drizzly, wintery, gray day at Joe Wheeler State Park. New macro lens. Playin' around.

I confess to loving winter. This fact may stem from Fleetwood Mac's "Bare Trees" album long ago. Fleetwood Mac wasn't one of my favorite groups at the time but a good friend of mine had all their albums. (Vinyl!) Flipping through them one day the title of this particular album intrigued me. More importantly, it made me consider winter trees for the first time. An album by a reputable group was named after them so they must be special. I'd never given winter trees any thought at all before that day.

And they are special. I discovered at that young age the beauty of naked limbs reaching for the heavens, or twisting themselves into an artistic knot, all silhouette against whatever color of sky was delivered on any particular day. Upon closer inspection the textures and colors of bare, winter trees became even more interesting. Shaggy barks, mottled barks, red barks and the usual brown and gray barks adorned with nature's minutia of lichens and mosses began to fascinate. Even later came the discovery that birds live in dead snags and can be seen during winter much easier than in summer, and thus began a journey into birding.

Isn't it fascinating how one small thing in the mind of a child or teenager can create a hunger, a passion that follows into adulthood? Anyway, looking back at last year's photos of the mosses of Joe Wheeler State Park taken on a gray day while seeking bare trees I just got to thinkin' back.

Mosses and Lichens

The forest floor

Sunday was a gray day, lovingly wrapped in low hanging clouds, serenaded by spits and spats and pittering and pattering of soft drizzling showers. Slowly driving through the State Park along curvy roadways the carpeting of mosses seems illuminated from beneath the earth, much like the glowing forest in Avatar, in amazing shades of green, blue and purple. I find a safe place to pull over to explore and attempt to capture the magic.


Never having researched mosses and lichens I cannot describe any varieties seen here, but to me that isn't quite the point. Textures and colors create an Earth Painting of a sort when shot at close-up range. The new macro lens is quite the challenge and I've lots of learning to do, but viewing them at home on a large screen I found things I didn't see while there.

Glowing moss caresses a rock

What struck me upon looking at the photos later was some black gooey stuff that was prevalent. While there, I was only seeing the glowing colors, but I think the shiny black substance is what made some of the colors "pop." I could sure use a Botanist's opinion.

Tree lichens were like the webbed feet of futuristic waterfowl clinging to Eastern Red Cedars, their deep russet bark set off the light green and blue colors.


This globule of lichens fascinated me most. I see it in the topmost photo on the forest floor, but most prevalently clinging to the sides of Cedars. Fine black hairs rim the edges, it looks like an alien needing a shave.

A macro lens is throwing challenges my way, and is enabling me to get lost in another view of Nature. Any macro photographers out there who can give me good advice? Most of my shots are blurry. Depth of field is a huge issue. I need a tiny tripod. As it is I tuck my elbows in and stop breathing to shoot, but what I get now is just luck.

Green Day

I ran away a week or so ago to see what could be seen and capture what could be captured. Heading west toward favorite wild areas and Wilson Dam, I enjoyed several days of isolated bliss snapping photos of a variety of things. Upon arriving back to the City House and downloading my gems I discovered most of my favorite shots were of things green. The old Eastern Red Cedar above was a first favorite years ago when it was immortalized by my Sony Cybershot 5.0 digital camera. Comparing the two shots should be fun.

Green grasses protect the Canada Geese at Joe Wheeler State Park.

Green trees and green shrubs hug the bank along greenish waters.

A green trail beckons.

Green moss glows along the riverside.

Green moss accentuates a shoreline rock.

A dead tree cascading over a cliff side adorned with greenery.

Back home again, the shagbark hickory's green leaves are beginning to turn gold, catching fire in the sunset. This is the beginning of the Golden Tree Hour at our lake house. Cheers, everyone.