Yesterday I spied three mule deer not far from my house in Bend, Oregon. This isn't unusual here the since urban growth boundary has been pushed increasingly into wildlife habitat which contain scent trails that have been used for centuries. I am not here to debate whether the deer population has increased or decreased over the past years. The subject becomes unpleasant especially when talking to hunting enthusiasts or local farmers who allege their crops are almost purposefully munched. In any case, having originally been raised in the heart of the city of Chicago and then transplanted to the suburbs of Southern California in my youth, meant that seeing deer was an awe-inspiring event. Only after moving to Oregon in my early twenties and living in rural areas did this experience become almost commonplace. Nonetheless, there is still something so special about these innocent ungulates. I observed their behavior for hours when I worked on fire lookouts many years ago and learned much of their gentle personality. Seeing these few still brings me joy and reminds me of a world that once existed before there were so many of us.
It is early in the morning at the airport in Portland, Oregon, and have some time between flights to post for Bend, Oregon, Daily Photo. As promised, I wanted to show some of the landscape of the recently established Badlands Wilderness Area which is 17 miles east of Bend, Oregon. One of several hiking trails lead to Flatiron Rock, a peculiar geologic formation of cooled molten lava piled high off the desert floor. Here I found many natural treasures. Along the path there are numerous caves and fissures to explore. I sought to find drawings from early natives but came up empty-handed. Instead I was treated to seeing unusual crystal formations created from dripping water, colorful green and orange lichen, and, of course, in the process disturbed lots of small scurrying things, primarily lizards and voles. In the above photo, I shot a picture of the many windows and arches that adorn this remarkable place. It is an easy flat walk of about an hour to this spot but, oddly enough, is sparsely visited. I have a new place to bring guests who love the outdoors. It is a place that will be remembered, I assure you.
On several previous posts I have mentioned that Bend, Oregon, is located in Central Oregon on the high desert. The above photo, taken this weekend on a hike to the Badlands Wilderness area 17 miles East of Bend, gives a fairly good representation of the countryside lying in the rain shadow of the Cascade Mountain range. The trees that flourish in this semi-arid environment are junipers. They are generally short, with tough gnarly bark, rough light green needle-like or scale-like leaves and aromatic inedible blue berries. The soil is composed of pumice, lava and igneous rock and is the remnants of the huge explosion and fiery flow from the remains of Mt. Mazama 90 miles away, which is the site of present day Crater Lake.
Like so many coins at the bottom of a sacred fountain, these aspen leaves wink back alluringly to the viewer. They are woven together by brittle strands of pondorosa pine needles, creating a colorful mosaic carpet of geometric shapes, placed on an earthen background. On Wednesday, I posted a cool gray, solitary picture of a grove of the spindly, white and black- checkered parents of these leaves. These once verdant beauties, now barren, protruding from the ground like naked spears, have dropped their jewels to the floor and wait for the snow to fall and to hide their bounty within the cloak of Winter's grandeur.
This evening, as a friend and I left the college art building in Bend, Oregon, we were treated to this extraordinary view. We remarked how difficult it is to accurately photograph sunset colors especially the orange hue. Then our words fell away. It was time to simply take in the moment and feel its grandeur and not let thoughts get in the way.
