Archive for November 16th, 2014

16
Nov
14

Do you feel the silence?

“October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces.”  J.K. Rowling

snow+Oregon-woods-bridge-photography-TMuncy-SwittersB

16
Nov
14

Looking toward the light……

“We are what we believe we are!”

C.S. Lewis

Can it be any simpler in our quest for self esteem, success, peace of mind, spirituality, love, happiness? Clearing the fog of self doubt, regrets, guilt, sadness, grief, jealousy, hate, envy or defeat is the task.

bright light-Oregon-photography-lake-SwittersB

16
Nov
14

Tributaries to the Whole…

“If we study the lives of great men and women carefully and unemotionally we find that, invariably, greatness was developed, tested and revealed through the darker periods of their lives. One of the largest tributaries of the river of greatness is always the stream of adversity. A desire to help others is our most noble attribute; it gives immortal momentum to life and is our only certain path to heaven.”

Cavett Robert

creek+river-Oregon-water-photography-SwittersB

A nature, side note…this small creek pours down into the river, in the foreground. I would sit and watch salmon struggle up the small tributary’s gradient, backs out of the water…on and on toward quiet waters to spawn.

16
Nov
14

The Cycle…….

There is something magical about the return of sea run fish to their native streams. In particular, Salmon provide this powerful drama of returning from the ocean, pushing way upriver, even into small tributaries. Then, hopefully they pair and spawn. Either way, once they hit fresh water a change in life commences. They are destined to die within weeks of their first taste of sweet water.

Gull-dead salmon-river-Oregon-photography-SwittersB

A Gull feasting upon the dead salmon in an Oregon coastal river. By now, anglers judge the ‘run’ to be over with few fish arriving now. But, one strength of the run continues, the enrichment of the watershed after their last breaths are taken.

I, for one, mentally glorify this whole arrival. I chase their progress, fish for them, watch them, marvel at them, rarely kill them. But, later the realities of the whole process are evident. Fish lay dead in the shallows. Others propel themselves into a final resting place and die. They are done, after traveling hundreds if not a thousand miles. They live two to six years in the ocean and then return to reproduce and start the whole cycle over again. 

Their deaths are curious in that it is evident they add nutrients to the watershed. But equally interesting is that they are mostly composed of ocean bred nutrients, which is transported often far from the ocean into a forested watershed. All interesting and fascinating in the beginning, middle and then the end. ‘It’s a matter of life and death…’




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