We had already seen and loved the coastal redwoods in the Humboldt Redwoods State Park. But while those are the tallest trees to be found anywhere in the world, they are not the most massive overall. That honour belongs to their cousins, the giant sequoias (as measured by a combination of height and width).
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Our world is full of geometrical shapes, many of them created by ourselves. Doors and windows, roofs, walls and fences, containers, art of all kinds … You will find geometry wherever you look in the manmade environment. But what about nature?
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No, it isn’t possible to successfully photograph a redwood tree, nor to convey its impact; you have to experience it for yourself. Walking among these groves is unlike any other forest walk. More than by any other trees, we are dwarfed by them, and awed by a palpable sense of their great age. That age, that immense size, their sheer presence; only by being there can we feel those qualities.
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What we in the UK call autumn is known for the most part as fall in the US. On our recent California trip we made sure to comment on the ‘fall colours’! But why the difference?
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There’s something very photogenic about the strands of seaweed we find on the shore. The colours are often rich, the shapes sensuous and sculptural. When I walk on a beach I often find myself pointing the camera downwards, looking for seaweeds, almost as much as towards the sea.
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What makes an English country garden? Is it the choice of plants? The generously filled herbaceous borders? Perhaps a wall, a gravel or brick path, and a statue or two?
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Kahlil Gabran’s likening of trees to poems 'that the earth writes upon the sky' is often quoted, I know. And yes, the branches of trees, their twigs and leaves, do seem a little like writing against the sky. But there is more to this poem.
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This year our dreary spring has continued into this, one of my favourite months, with only a few brighter days. We did have one glorious weekend in the middle of the month, with temperatures more like summer than spring. But we also had more grey days and more wet ones.
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Who doesn’t love flowers? Very few people indeed, I am sure. And by extension, who doesn’t love a flower photo? Of course, no photo can fully convey the beauty, and no scents were ever appreciated through an image.
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I can remember a time when wildflowers were always just that, wild. They grew randomly in places where they had self-seeded, in hedgerows or on verges. In towns they were too often seen as weeds, not part of the gardener’s plans. If we were lucky they might pop up in odd corners of our urban concrete jungles, softening them and giving us a lift whenever we spotted them.