Showing posts with label autumn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autumn. Show all posts

Saturday, October 31, 2020

Taking a Walk Through Autumn's Colors

In recent months I've spent a fair amount of time wandering through forests high up in the mountains. These forests have aspens and evergreens on more northerly inclined slopes and in sheltered areas, while Gambel oak predominate on drier, more southerly exposures. Rocky Mountain Maple grow in their own little pockets or scattered throughout.


The colors this fall have been impressive in spite of a dry summer. Maples show a relatively wide range of color, with vivid reds and oranges, to yellow that competes with aspens and box elder for any sightseer's attention. Aspens shimmer gold in the breeze, brilliant against a backdrop of evergreens. Oak leaves display a subtle rust color, much more subdued than the showier parts of the forest.


On my woods walks I've seen chickadees, nuthatches, jays, and crows. Ruffed grouse are the color of the forest floor and can be hard to see. Chipmunks are quite common. They often show curiosity, their tails and legs twitching as they watch me before they dart away. Pine squirrels chatter from pine boughs here or there. High overhead, a few hawks in their migration wheel and glide across the sky.

Deer are common in these woods, as are wild turkeys. I've also seen moose and bear here. Judging from sign I've seen, elk roam this area, too, although I've yet to see them in this particular section of the mountains. No telling what other things, hidden from my view, have shared these woods with me on my visits.


One particular day in early October, I walked into an isolated patch of aspens surrounded by tall evergreens. This pocket of aspens was maybe about eighty yards long. Their golden leaves shimmered and rustled in the gentle autumn breeze. Trees still had most of their foliage, though the ground was nearly covered with fallen yellow aspen leaves, giving the impression of gold overhead and gold under foot. The air temperature was perfect. The soft breezes and whisper of aspen leaves soothing. The color was dazzling. I stood there for several minutes, quite content, in what seemed almost like a mild trance. Suddenly, a grouse thundered into the air from it's hiding spot nearby, flew the length of the aspen stand and into the pines. I watched the grouse fly, all the while feeling like I was trying to wake up.


My walk took me up through the woods and onto a ridge. An open meadow there provided a wonderful view of surrounding mountains. Being late in the day, the low angle of sunlight painted distant ridges and peaks with bright sienna and umbers, while cool shadows flooded into deep canyons. Those shadows soon covered everything. In the dark, I walked an old logging road to a dirt road that followed the main ridge between Hobble Creek and Diamond Fork. As I walked the road, a few deer crossed ahead of me. The deer were barely visible in the dark, appearing like ghosts. When I reached where the deer had crossed, I could hear them hurrying away through the brush. Mindful that things more concerning than deer roam these woods at night, I fished a flashlight out of my day pack.


Following the road back would be the long way, but I found another old logging road that seemed to lead in the direction I wanted to go. That trail led down to another meadow, one I was familiar with. From there I was able to follow game trails and cattle trails back to my car.

Thursday, February 20, 2020

This is Tomorrow!

A new art exhibit opens tomorrow at Evergreen Gallery in SLC. Several local artists were each given a 20" x 20" painting panel to do with what we pleased. Come see how mine turned out! (Hint: I already posted about the painting I made for the show several weeks ago.) I'm excited to see what others did with their panels! For more information, contact Evergreen Gallery, and come see the exhibit! Art always looks better in person!

Thursday, November 21, 2019

Desert Tower

9" x 12" Oil on Panel
Early this month I was back in the desert, near the Book Cliffs. There's so much to explore and paint there! Other parts of Utah get much more attention, and that makes this area all the better for exploring and painting. No noisy crowds. No national park bureaucratic regulations. Just desert canyons and cliffs, pinyon and juniper forests, and wide open views. 

This painting was made on a beautiful day early in November. The weather was one of those late autumn dichotomies where chilly air and warm sun contrast sharply with each other. After painting, I took a little time to hike a trail that led through a couple canyons and through stands of pinyon pine and juniper trees to a pleasant surprise; a waterfall in the desert! This time of year there was a lot of ice built up on the waterfall, and along the creek that tumbled over those falls.


There was much more trail to hike, but the sun was getting low and the time short, so I thought it best to return. And although I physically returned, it's as if part of my mind remained, wondering what else there was farther along the trail. Bits of my mind always seem to get stuck in wild places! I'll be back, for sure, both to paint and to hike more of this wonderful and intriguing landscape!

Wednesday, October 30, 2019

Mid October Hues

20" x 20" Oil on Panel
Here's a square painting for once. I kind of like the format, so I might just paint a few more of them. Who knows, I could start trying other non-standard formats also.

This painting shows the subtle, earthy colors of a mid October rural landscape. It's days like this that make me want to outfit one of my paintboxes with only earth tone oil colors, just for scenes like this. This painting could have been made using mainly earth colors, such as yellow ochre, burnt umber and burnt sienna, but I used my usual split primary plus viridian palette instead, because that's what I have. Such a bright palette can be used to create earth tone colors just fine, it's just a little more expensive to do it that way. It would be interesting to see how a scene like this could be painted with a Zorn-ish palette, such as yellow ochre, cadmium red, and ivory black or ultramarine blue, plus titanium white. I'll be sure to give that a try sometime soon.

This painting will be in a show early next year. I'll explain more about the show later, as we get closer to it.

Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Helper Plein Air 2019

11" x 14" Oil on Panel
On the first of October I traveled to Helper, Utah, to spend a few days participating in a plein air event there. I've been hoping for a plein air event in Helper for a long time. The landscape surrounding the town is rich in subject matter for paintings, with miles of towering cliffs and wide open high desert views. Many of the buildings in downtown helper have the feel of an early twentieth century boom town. I've painted in the area before, and have spent a few days there in the past, but it's been a few years since I've been back.

11" x 14" Oil on Panel
Helper is a small town tucked up against the Book Cliffs, and located on a major route between northern and southeastern Utah; a route used by people generally on their way to and from other places. Because of Helper's location, it's a major railroad town, supplying extra locomotives to help long trains up steep canyon grades. (Hence the town's name.) The railroad, and coal mining, provided the bulk of the local economy. Those industries, however, have been on the wane recently, and the town has suffered economically.

During my most recent visit I was surprised to find that a number of the previously empty buildings in downtown Helper now house art galleries and artists' studios. During the monthly "First Friday Art Walk," main street is closed to traffic. Street vendors and performers set up their booths street side downtown, and crowds of people show up to tour galleries and enjoy the festivities. Helper is not yet a big art center, but there is a sense of optimism, and the town seems to be on it's way to becoming one.

My abode for a few days.
While in Helper for the plein air event, I stayed at a local campground. The first morning there, as I happened to be looking toward the Book Cliffs a few miles away, There suddenly appeared what I at first thought was smoke from a big wildfire that had just started on the other side of town. But the smoke was billowing downward, not up, like smoke is supposed to. I realized it wasn't smoke. It was dust and debris from a huge rockfall, tumbling hundreds of feet down a towering cliff near town! The rockfall then kicked up a giant dust cloud that rose hundreds of feet into the air, and slowly drifted off to the southeast.

A few minutes later, I drove to a nearby corner market. Pointing to the still lingering dust cloud where the rockfall had happened, I asked the man at the checkout counter,

"Are there any homes located over there?"

He replied that no, that area of town is where the cemetery is and there aren't any homes there.

I asked, "Does this sort of thing happen here very often?"

He answered, "More often than you would think." Then after a short pause added, "That was a big one, though."

The big rockfall had been visible from all over town. It was frequently brought up in conversation later when the plein air painters got together after being out painting all day.

The big rockfall happened on the cliff  visible
just to the right of the top of the tent.
That day and the next I did the two paintings shown at the top of this post. After framing my paintings and turning them in at the gallery, I headed out to explore more of the surrounding area. Pointing the 4Runner down various unfamiliar dirt roads, I would drive until the road ended, or I thought it might never end. Then I'd turn around and go find another road to explore. The diverse roads I followed led me into deep canyons or up onto high mesas.

An example of the brightly colored wild asters that
were growing many places along the road.
There was little time available between dropping off paintings and returning to the gallery later that evening for the reception, so instead of painting I simply scouted the area, stopping from time to time to take photographs.

More Asters
Pinyon pines and juniper trees grow in scattered batches on the tablelands below the book cliffs. Most of the area, however, is open grassland and sagebrush. In the higher elevations a wider variety of trees can be found, including aspens and maples.


An Abundance of Juniper Berries
Perhaps more showy than the asters were the large batches of yellow chamisa, or rabbitbrush commonly growing along the edges of dirt roads.


Chamisa, or Rabbitbrush
More Roadside Rabbitbrush
To see my paintings in person, along with freshly made paintings by more than forty other plein air artists, come visit Adams Fine Arts in Helper, Utah. The gallery is located downtown at 115 South Main Street. The show will be up through the rest of October, and the first of November. All paintings are for sale. For more information, visit https://www.helperpleinair.com

An Example of the Kind of Landscape I Was Exploring

Tuesday, October 1, 2019

Exploring September Woods

Long View Beyond the Woods
It's the end of September. In the mountains, a few trees are already beginning to display their autumn colors. Late summer asters and goldenrod seem to be the most common wildflowers blooming this late in the season. The early autumn sun shines more gently than it did during the height of summer.

A handful of times this month I've gone up into the mountains in an unsuccessful attempt to hunt forest grouse. Despite the lack of success bagging any game, time spent in the mountain forests and ridges has been time well spent. I believe it's time I need to spend there.

Meadow, Forrest and Mountain
The canyons, woods, and ridge tops of the southern Wasatch range haven't given me any grouse yet, but they've provided thoughtful time to myself as I've explored stands of aspen and evergreen. There have been tremendous views from ridge tops where one can see for many miles; views not only pleasing to the eye, but also challenging to the mind.

Overlooking Sanpete Valley
What is it about those views of ridge after ridge, canyon after canyon that compel me to stop and try to comprehend them? What is in those canyons and on those mountains that could be different from where I stand looking out over such an expansive landscape? Are there other opportunities there? More potential? More grouse? New opportunities for plein air painting? More opportunities to learn about the landscape, and about life?


I can't begin to describe everything I've seen on trips into the wild, nor explain many of the things I've experienced there. I'm certain I'll continue to see and experience new things in visits to the wild, yet I'm sure there's also much that gets missed. Time spent out there changes me, probably in ways I'm not always aware of.

A Gathering of Evergreens
The shotgun I carried on these hunts never was fired, but a camera was frequently brought into action. All of the pictures in this post are from my September hunts.

A Woodsy Trail
One of the places I went to had large areas burned in big wildfires last year. There's still plenty of places to go that aren't burnt, but I frequently came across areas of standing charred trees where new green brush was beginning to push up through ashen soil.

Charred Forrest
One thing hunting does for me is that it compels me to hike and explore places I wouldn't otherwise go. If such trips don't result in fresh wild table fare, they always give me other things that are well worth the expense of a hunting license. There were plenty of opportunities to view wildlife other than what I was after. Deer, wild turkeys, pine squirrels, woodpeckers, flickers, ravens and red-tailed hawks were among the wildlife I enjoyed seeing on these mountain trips. On occasion I'd come across curious things, such as an ancient dead pine tree that looked like it should be haunted.

Tree Monster
In another place, I found this assemblage of sticks and logs. My guess is it was either once a hunter's blind or built by some bushcrafter practicing making a survival shelter.


Here's my companion on these trips into the September woods. Turns out all it did was come along for the ride, but that's OK. 'Twern't any trouble at all.


The later half of the month definitely had a feeling of changing seasons. During one visit to the mountains late in the month, mild temperatures and increasing cloud cover gave the sky a very un-summer like mood. Cloud cover became broken and ragged. Curtains of rain hung from dark clouds in the southeastern sky. The rain seemed to drag around the edges of the landscape, but left me alone during most of the day.

Changing Colors
Hunting up a draw through aspen thickets, I continued until I came to a ridge line edged with scrub oak. I didn't expect to see any game birds on the ridge, I simply wanted to be there. After tarrying a little on the ridge, I headed back down a different slope, going from one stand of quakies to another. The dirt road, and my car, came into view far too soon. There was still time left in the day, so I headed up through a meadow and into another section of woods. There aspen leaves shimmered and whispered in the autumn breeze.

Diamond Fork
Cloud cover and the late time of day finally combined to spread a continuous shadow across the landscape. Returning through forest and meadow, I watched as the lowering sun at first gilded cloud tops, then painted them with a pinkish orange hue. A light, unsteady rain began to fall where I was. Standing beside my car, I watched the evening deepen. In the distance a jagged bolt of lightning flashed in dark storm clouds. Tomorrow morning these mountaintops will have a light dusting of snow. But this evening two things seem to tug at me, pulling in opposite directions. It was time to go, but I really didn't want to.

Changing Weather

Friday, November 16, 2018

Late Autumn Hike 2018


Autumn color is past. The brilliant reds of Rocky Mountain Maples and warm golden glow of aspens have come and gone, always, it seems, in too much of a hurry to go. Grays, ochres and russet tones dominate the landscape in this season.


Of course, any season can be good for hiking in the Wasatch Mountains. Last week I went for a hike in a nearby canyon. The weather that day was very pleasant, a little cool but not really cold. Higher up there was frost on the ground and small patches of snow in parts of the canyon that never see the sun this time of year. The higher peaks are snow capped.


When hiking, I try to always carry a few things I might need with me in a day pack. Things like water, snacks, compass, flashlight, knife, warmer clothes for when the weather turns colder, etc. These days, one of the things I try to always have with me is a camera. The images in this post were all taken during last week's hike.

First Meadow, Left Fork
Up near the top of the canyon the trail forks. Following the right fork, I came over a rise to see two large, dark animals in the path. Two cow moose blocked my way. When I took a couple more steps toward them, the larger moose laid her ears back. That's when I decided it was no longer my path and retreated a few steps. After one more look back at the moose, I decided to hike back the other way, away from the moose!

Moose
In case the above photograph isn't clear enough to easily see the moose, I've added something in the next photo to help point them out to you.


Returning to the fork, I then went up the left trail to a favorite meadow. There I ate some snacks I'd brought with me, drank some water and refilled my water bottle at a spring in the meadow. Wandering around the meadow I found a broken tine from a moose antler. I wondered if it had been broken off in a savage fight between two adult bull moose. 

Broken Moose Antler
A few years ago I was in this same meadow when I heard a loud grunt off to my right. I turned to see a huge bull moose coming off the mountainside and into the meadow. The moose was walking straight towards me! The moose would take a few steps, pause, then move a few steps closer. As He approached, he slowly tilted his head back and forth as if to draw attention to the massive antlers that adorned his head! Not waiting to see if and how the bull moose intended to use that rack, I quickly surrendered the meadow and headed back down the trail walking at a fast pace. 

There were no moose in the meadow when I was there last week, so I took my ease and enjoyed exploring the place. As I wandered around through some aspen trees I discovered some extensive carving on a couple of them. This one stated,

"I WILL CROSS THE GREAT DIVIDE    GARY TAYLOR   1871"

I can't verify the date carved at the bottom, nor do I know anything about the rest of the carved statement, but it was a mildly intriguing find.


A nearby tree had an even more extensive text scrawled into the bark. I'd imagine that any comment that began with the word "Yea" might be important. Unfortunately I couldn't make out what most of it said, so that Wasatch Mountain prophet's message is lost to me. Good luck if you think you can make it out. If you can, let me know in the comments, OK?


These three little figures were carved on the same tree. Maybe they have something to do with the message carved on the tree? 



Thursday, November 8, 2018

Mesa Top Juniper

9" x 12" Oil on Panel
This was painted during a recent trip to the the four corners region of southeast Utah. I was driving around the high desert looking for something to paint when I spotted this tree on a mesa top. After deciding to make a painting of it, I parked in a safe spot off the road, grabbed a 9 x 12 pochade box, and headed up through the sagebrush toward the tree.

The Four Corners Region is full of bits and pieces of ancient civilizations. One can pretty much hike into any canyon and find stone ruins high up on cliff faces. Lithic flakes and pottery shards are also common finds. Lots to look at and wonder about, but don't take!

As I approached the tree, I found two little pieces of ancient broken pottery. Farther on I found more shards. Every few steps revealed more and more pottery fragments, including this spot where it seems someone had gathered different kinds of pot shards into one place:


Likely this much ancient detritus wasn't dropped by someone just passing by. I thought there must have been people living here on this mesa top long ago. Looking around for any signs of past settlement, I found an incongruous pile of rocks and dirt. I think this was once a pueblo, now collapsed and overgrown with sagebrush:


What a great view the ancient residents of this pueblo would have had! From the Abajo Mountains to the north to the spires, buttes and mesas to the south, their view of the landscape would have been wide open!
____________________

As for my own dwelling during this trip, I brought one with me. It's a new tent that's roomy and big enough to stand up in:


And I brought a kitchen, too. Made of pine and baltic birch plywood, it was painted with oil primer that was colored with thalo oil colors I no longer wanted in my paintbox:

My Chuck Box.
I bought this Coleman stove in 1982. It was once my backpacking stove but is now a permanent part of my chuck box gear, as I now have lighter options for backpacking stoves. After 36 years it still works great!

Cooking breakfast on my 36 year old Coleman stove.