The Collections: New Additions

New shots have been added to Architecture, Flora, Nature, People, and Place.  Please use the links to the right to explore the collections.

The Shot: Afternoon Shadows

 During my trip to Madrid, I collected some of my favorite shots, including Reflections and Tapas Table. 

My time at the Reina Sofia began waiting to meet my colleagues in the courtyard near the entrance.  I arrived early, relishing the opportunity to people-watch.  The entry line snaked away from the door, inching towards the museum steadily, but slowly.  When the rest of my party arrived, we joined the throng.


Inside, we wandered amongst great works of Spanish art, marveling at the talent and vision contained in the walls.  Moving between floors required use of the glass elevator overlooking the courtyard.  The landing of the top floor provided another view to watch the crowds below.  


As I stood, watching the sun dance across the courtyard below, I took another look at the buildings flanking the space.  Not sure whether it was an apartment building or something else, I focused on the building to my right.  The shadows of the balconies contrasted with the whitewash of the facade. At first glance, it resembled a fractal pattern, with the same basic elements (balcony + door + building) combined over and over again, but upon looking closer, I began to see the individuality of each combination: a bicycle, an open door, closed shutters.  

The Sites: North Carolina Arboretum

Much like a swamp park, I find it hard to turn down a visit to a botanical garden.  

These are great locations to familiarize yourself with the flora of the area.  Some, like the North Carolina Botanical Garden in Chapel Hill, are designed to capture the various ecosystems of an entire state.  Others will focus on the flora of their local area.  Still others will focus on a particular type of flowers, such as the rose gardens of Vander Veer Botanical Park in Davenport, Iowa.

On my second trip to Asheville, I found myself with time to visit the North Carolina Arboretum.  These gardens contain both cultivated and natural landscapes, with particular emphasis on the flora of the southern Appalachian mountains, and with educational programming for young and old alike.  The blooms were transitioning from summer to fall, so this made for an interesting blend of subjects.

The summer blooms included a batch of sunflowers.  These are flowers that are almost impossible to photograph poorly: the contrast of their colors, the sharp definition of their petals, and their size make for easy composition.  These flowers are ubiquitously splashed across linens, ceramics, paintings, just about anything and everything.  They are an image that is so familiar to us that in some way, they may be that prototypical image that first comes to mind when someone says "flower."

Given their plentiful presence, it would seem difficult to capture a new perspective on that quintessential flower, but as I strolled among the flowerbeds, I found one just beginning to open.  The petals were still delicately tucked into one another, as if hesitant to unfurl so late in the season:

April 16 Tornado Outbreak

There are few things so singularly terrifying, horrible, and random as a tornado.

Yesterday, tornadoes and severe weather tore through this state that I have come to love.

Yesterday, paths of destruction were wrought across dozens of communities.

Yesterday, lives were lost.

There are no words that can truly capture that sense.  The pictures from the news reports are heartbreaking.  The interviews with those affected reach into the deepest depths of our empathy and awaken something so primal within each of us - utter and complete horror on their behalf and yet, almost guiltily, relief that it wasn't us.

Thoughts, prayers, support, and all other forms of relief go out to those across North Carolina as they being to pick up the pieces, rebuild, and heal.

For the latest on the storms, please visit the local news agencies:

www.abc11.com

www.newsobserver.com

www.news14.com

www.wral.com

The Sites: Western North Carolina

Rivers aren't the only thing I've had to redefine in North Carolina.

As you can imagine, the swamps of Florida and the wide flood plains of the Midwest never afforded me much exposure to mountains - anything over 20ft tall qualified in my book.  A few trips to Colorado during college took me from one extreme to the other, with 14,000 foot peaks soaring overhead with the same frequency as creeks flowed through my neighborhood.  

The Rockies are relatively younger mountains; they are still jagged, tall, and only just now beginning to show the wear and tear of erosion.  The Appalachians, on the other hand, are the veterans of geologic time.  Their tops are more rounded, their waterfalls more deeply carved, and their history more steeped in legend. 

Driving west on I-40 through North Carolina, you don't have much sense of your increasing elevation until you reach Burke County.  As you crest over a particular hill just west of Morganton, the Appalachians explode in undulating ridges toward the horizon.  It took my breath away the first time I made the trip; it did the same thing last fall when I returned; it will do it once again when I head back west this weekend.

Bunker Hill Covered Bridge; Hickory, NC

My first trip west was several years after moving here; it was a quick overnight business trip to Asheville - just enough to whet the appetite with a morning hike off the Blue Ridge Parkway.  My second trip started in Mooresville, from which I worked my way west through Hickory and Morganton before reaching Asheville once again. 

This time, I was able to spend more time in Asheville, exploring the downtown and the botanical gardens.  With such a rich culture of art, food, natural wonders, and history, this is a city which warrants an extended stay if you can do so.  

Pack Place; Asheville, NC

Crocus, NC Botanical Garden; Asheville, NC

Sunflower, NC Botanical Garden; Asheville, NC

North of Asheville, the Blue Ridge Parkway parallels I-40 for about 20 miles before turning further north towards Boone at NC-80 near Marion.  As the Parkway winds through the mountains, overlooks offer views of stunning landscapes, while the flora along the roadside offers refuge for comparatively smaller wonders:

Turkey Vultures over Licklog Ridge; Blue Ridge Parkway, NC

Monarch Butterflies; Blue Ridge Parkway, NC

Summit of Mt. Mitchell; Blue Ridge Parkway, NC

 Before reaching the turnoff for Marion, you reach the road to Mount Mitchell, the highest point east of the Mississippi River.  Here, you can look out across the vista, with guides pointing you towards Grandfather Mountain and Boone, visible from the summit.  

 Western North Carolina is vast and varied - I still haven't made it to Boone or to Transylvania County, where waterfalls dance down the from the peaks.  Linville Gorge - often referred to as the Grand Canyon of North Carolina - is one of only two wilderness gorges in the southern US.  The Appalachian Trail winds along the border with Tennessee.  Wildlife large and small make their home here.  Clearly, I have my work cut out for me.

The Sites: Redefining Rivers - From the Mississippi to the Eno

Mississippi River at Leech Park; Bettendorf, Iowa

Between the swamps of south Florida and the rivers of eastern Iowa, I'd always lived with water as an integral part of my landscape.  It was simply there: the canals and the rivers were as common as sidewalks and streets.


Moving to central North Carolina required me to adjust my thinking.  Here, bodies of water are more a destination than part of the scenery - where I used to walk along and across the Iowa River to get to class, now I have to drive a decent distance to specific access points for the local rivers and lakes.
  

Eno River at Cole Mill Road; Durham, NC

I've also had to redefine my ideas about what a river should be.  Where the Mississippi stretches and flows wide and deep, the Eno River meanders more narrowly, shallowly, and slowly, really only raging after a heavy rain.  The scale of the two rivers is vastly different and so is their character.  Where the Mississippi is big and bold, the Eno is quiet and quaint.  

Eno River at Pleasant Green; Orange County, NC

The quiet, removed quality of the Eno combined with the nature preservation efforts  of the North Carolina parks and wildlife agencies has given it an edge over the more developed rivers of my previous homes, however.  The river bluffs here are more often paralleled by hiking trails than thoroughfares, with the shallower depths enabling you to cross the river by fording it rather than relying on a suspension bridge.  It also makes for more opportunities for adventure among its tributary creeks, allowing you to explore off the beaten path to find the hidden gems that aren't often found along the larger waterways.


I've also had to adjust my expectations of wildlife along each river.  The Mississippi is home to nesting bald eagles, with visitors' bureaus and local businesses alike celebrating their annual migration.  The size of the river also enables it to support large flocks of mallards throughout the year.  

Mallard on the Mississippi; Bettendorf, IA

Here in North Carolina, the eagles tend to prefer the area lakes for their roosting while migrating Canadian Geese make themselves at home in neighborhood ponds.  The Eno's paths provide an opportunity to get friendly with more of its ground-dwelling residents, with turtles capitalizing on the lower water levels to climb out on branches and rocks to bask in the sun.

Turtles on the Eno

I admit that I spend a fair amount of time mourning my majestic, mammoth rivers: the Mississippi, the Iowa, the Cedar, and the Wapsipinicon (or the "Wapsi" as we call it) are testaments to the power of water on larger scales - and as the spring flood season approaches, those in their flood plains keep a wary eye on their levels.  Trips to Washington, New Bern and Elizabeth City bring on such nostalgia as I sit along the Pamlico, Neuse, Trent, Chowan, and Pasquotank Rivers, lamenting that there is no such waterfront where I live now.  But the Eno has taught me to appreciate the smaller scale.  In the end, what it boils down to is that a river is a river, no matter how small; the beauty of a river is that it always and yet never the same, which is really what draws me to them in the first place.