You’d have heard me gasp when I first saw this jaw-dropping tree from the trail. Immediately I felt humbled and then sad that I only discovered it after its death. I approached carefully, as if I was disturbing it, intruding on its slumber or perhaps watchfulness. There is a dichotomy of strength and vigor and decrepitude and decay that was really difficult to come to grips with, especially when it came to photos. I almost didn’t take any because I didn’t feel I could do it justice.
Mostly I try not to anthropomorphize plants and animals or imbue them with any meaning other than their literal places in an ecosystem, but when I came across this ancient tree I almost felt it as a physical vibration in the earth. It has probably been dead longer than I’ve been alive and its life span will have been many times what mine will be.
It was about three feet across and hollow at the base. The limb that fell is bigger than most of the living trees around it. As I approached I felt awe beyond anything I have experienced in a while. This massive entity must have been amazing while it lived. Those branches spreading to cover the laurels and other plants with dense shade. Those same branches serving as perches, hiding places and maybe whole worlds for the smallest of creatures. Treebeard indeed.
To attain this mighty size must have been a struggle. There is a similarly proportioned tree, also dead but fallen, not far from it and the competition for light and nutrients must have been fierce. What helped them grow so enormous? Fungi, clear cutting, a fire? While the land is protected now, it was used by humans for generations, even if it was gently.
In its presence I struggled with how to depict the scene in such a way that would preserve the majesty and scale of this giant. There was no way to take it in entirely as so much of it was far over head and buried in the canopy of younger trees. That great branch with its near 90-degree bend is so astonishing that it seems menacingly animate or as if it’s been frozen in the act of hurling a thunderbolt.
As I’ve said before about the Florence Tarr Wildlife Refuge, if I lived in NH still, I’d haunt it regularly. Unfortunately this last time I was held in check by the continuing rain showers that kept me from wandering too far from the car. Even so, I’m glad I found this venerable tree, still imposing in its crumbling aspect and death. If I can make time on my next visit, I will return and say hello to its ghost.
Before craning my neck to look up at that enigmatic giant, I was looking down at these petite wonders –
Ah my favorite wildflower as you well know – Indian Pipe. While I hadn’t seen any in Wisconsin (and still pretty much haven’t as I write this in August), it was blooming all over in New Hampshire. And after rain it looks even more extraordinary with all the water droplets. Unearthly and arcane, they are a delight for those of us who notice them.
Framing and composing the wounded warrior was a challenge, but these were, too, since I didn’t have a tripod and hadn’t thought to hit the store for a bag of rice as I would do the next day. One of my regular camera supports is a bag of barley that I’ve had for probably a decade. It sits right on the ground and is perfect for getting as low as possible for macro and microscapes. So a bag of rice from the grocery store served the same purpose and is now in the pantry. But for these I basically put my hand right on the ground and stayed as still as I could.
I think I did a fairly good job because some of these are short stacks of two or three images. I had a 6mm extension tube on the Vario G 35-100mm f/2.8 as well and the focus fall off to the edges has a trippy sort of feel in its blurriness. Since they are such odd beauties and a bit surreal, I think it suits the photos. I could have spent all day with just these mesmerizing flowers.
This next one is from a couple of days later in a different nature preserve, but I had my bag of rice so could hold a bit steadier and use a slightly smaller aperture, although this isn’t a stack. I saw the group from a little ways off and hurried over to catch the light since I knew it wouldn’t last. They really were this intensely pink.
So there it is – haunting strange above and below. It pays to keep an open mind and open eyes when out in nature. Odd and wondrous things await.
Trees are so interesting to me and the subject of the majority of my work. I like your B&W studies. The Indian Pipe shots are great too … we had them growing on our property when we lived in Southern New Jersey’s Pine Barrens. Nice work!!!
Thanks Denise. Trees are amazing and I seek their company often. The little ones, well, they are the most mysterious flowers and I just love them to bits. So many people are surprised to find out they’re not fungus.