Detail Man
New Member
Decked in Nature's beautiful emerald colors, a favorite tree resplendent (and in the "green" of health) in one of the recent few years most beautiful of Springs (2007), when, having graduated from one ISO=80 Leica/Lumix wonder to the next (the humble little 6 Mpixel DMC-LZ5 to the mythical 8 Mpixel DMC-FZ30), the rapture of the art of collecting gems was in full swing in my heart, spending many an afternoon with mono-pod gingerly walking on the muddy shores of secret sanctuaries under green canopies still free from human degradation ...
traveling back in place and in time the temperate rainforest that enveloped these fair lands before they were defiled and leveled by the "manifested destinies" of my own ancestors, terminating those peoples who came before for nearly 100 times longer than we with an extreme prejudice. The Duwamish Tribe (http://www.duwamishtribe.org/), who lived upon and loved these lands, their numbers now dwindled to some 600 souls, have struggled in vain since 1926 in the US Courts to obtain tribal recognition. Until such a (tragically) very unlikely time, they do not even have the right to fish in the large lake that they (a blink of the eye in time ago) treasured, loved, and once thrived beside. Their spirit remains amidst waterways and creeks much older than are we, amidst bubbling springs of the great aquifer that once nourished some of the earth's tallest trees. Humbling, indeed - and a place where I find far more meaning than I find amidst our concrete edifices replete with no substantive purpose save for neon commerce ...
(On average) every 500 years, the Cascadia Subduction Zone slips, and a Magnitude 9 quake rapidly spans Vancouver Island, BC to the SF Bay area, liquefying any/all structures save for the moss and the trees, thus returning the land to the flowers, ferns, moss, and trees that have so graciously re-emerged for (literally) billions of sunrises to do their procreative dance with the bees, in language unspoken to ears overcome by their own noise and illusions of invincibility amidst Nature, and within brief glimpses of time (such as human history) amidst the aeons the history of which our tenure is but a blade of grass in the ancient gardens having experienced far more practice and patience than have we.
"The scholar seeks, the artist finds"
(-Andre Gide)
" The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark.
The small truth has words that are clear; the great truth has great silence."
(- Rabindranath Tagore)
"The ruins of Time build mansions in Eternity." (- William Blake)
.
traveling back in place and in time the temperate rainforest that enveloped these fair lands before they were defiled and leveled by the "manifested destinies" of my own ancestors, terminating those peoples who came before for nearly 100 times longer than we with an extreme prejudice. The Duwamish Tribe (http://www.duwamishtribe.org/), who lived upon and loved these lands, their numbers now dwindled to some 600 souls, have struggled in vain since 1926 in the US Courts to obtain tribal recognition. Until such a (tragically) very unlikely time, they do not even have the right to fish in the large lake that they (a blink of the eye in time ago) treasured, loved, and once thrived beside. Their spirit remains amidst waterways and creeks much older than are we, amidst bubbling springs of the great aquifer that once nourished some of the earth's tallest trees. Humbling, indeed - and a place where I find far more meaning than I find amidst our concrete edifices replete with no substantive purpose save for neon commerce ...
(On average) every 500 years, the Cascadia Subduction Zone slips, and a Magnitude 9 quake rapidly spans Vancouver Island, BC to the SF Bay area, liquefying any/all structures save for the moss and the trees, thus returning the land to the flowers, ferns, moss, and trees that have so graciously re-emerged for (literally) billions of sunrises to do their procreative dance with the bees, in language unspoken to ears overcome by their own noise and illusions of invincibility amidst Nature, and within brief glimpses of time (such as human history) amidst the aeons the history of which our tenure is but a blade of grass in the ancient gardens having experienced far more practice and patience than have we.
"The scholar seeks, the artist finds"
(-Andre Gide)
" The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark.
The small truth has words that are clear; the great truth has great silence."
(- Rabindranath Tagore)
"The ruins of Time build mansions in Eternity." (- William Blake)
.
