It is difficult, even upsetting, to let the words creep in to describe the perfect quietness of the wild places. But I do anyway – it is a compulsion, admittedly. This photo-story comes from my adventures across California this year – the photos I’ve taken that seem to have captured a particular moment when the soul of the place seems to shine through. It is tied to, and described by, the six, California-based regions of Juniper Ridge fragrance – so named from these perfect places, these perfect faces of California, when all of the pure and wild spirit of the world seems focused into one breath. click on pictures to enlarge.
The Steep Ravine Trail on the West Side of Mount Tamalpais, across the Bay from San Francisco – coastal redwoods spiral above the canopy of Bay and Doug fir, moss and fern make way for the crystal stream to lazily meander down its ancient staircase.
Siskiyou – It is always misty here in the land of Bigfoot, on the Oregon border – deep valleys under a silver sky harbor dark conifer forests, some of which are so remote they may never know the tread fall of civilized man.
The short Sierra Summer is a time of sweet candy – the trees and flowers explode in fragrance and color, a race against the coming snow when the Range of Light will lock its self away again in Winter’s dream.
The guardian of the East – San Jacinto jets up out of the High Desert with an agenda all its own: to present at its peak, a bewilderingly disparate ecology from the one at its base. Cactus to Clouds they call it – from steam to ice may be an more appropriate description.
Juniper and Piñon are the two old men that crowd these tall, rocky knolls dotting the Colorado Desert of Southern California. Twisty roots stake millennium-spanning stakes over broken sandstone across a topography that plays host to a dizzying array of botanical wealth.
Of all places in the world, The war between the Ocean and the Land is most dramatically played out under the cliffs of Central California. Across Big Sur, Ten thousand different hues of green ride up the steep hills under an ever protecting blanket of thick sea fog.