This guy!
Full service for all models of spiders!
If you are ever in Weaverville, California and your giant black widow breaks down, you can call this guy. He can tow and repair all makes and models of spiders. Only in Weaver-ville, as in orb-weaver-ville. Seriously, I don’t make this stuff up. You really can find anything on the interweb!
I see trouble on the way.
Appearing out of the mist was this large rusting hulk. A tree growing through its roof as it imperceptibly melts into the ground. These strange structures were once as common in the forested West as family owned bookstores, and like the bookstores they are slowly fading away. They have been replaced by newer and better technology. In a few decades most of these old relics will be gone. No longer a reminder of a past lifestyle. I suspect that most young folks won’t recognize it, but does anyone else?
Tree branches pour through it like smoke. How oddly appropriate the tree chose this as it’s home.
Just keep driving…nothing to see here. I don’t think she’s kidding. I stopped only long enough to take this picture.
Vista point……not today.
I want to meet Yogi!
Some folks are very photogenic and some, not so much. Some days are very photogenic and some days, not so much. This was one of those good days. I love a good day. I try to have a lot of them.
Like sentinels in the wind, the big turbines peer through a window in the clouds.
Magee Peak is a sleeping volcano.
The mother oak looks down at the young pines gathered about her.
Magee Peak in the distance.
With Burney Mountain in the background, Nellie strikes a lovely pose. She is one of my favorite models. Nellie is very co-operative and will work for dog biscuits.
Every kid loves a snow day. It gets them out of school work. I go to work to get a snow day!
Even Nellie likes a snow day.
What Golden doesn’t love the snow.
Be careful were you stand.
Definitely a snow day for the loggers.
Out here a snow day doesn’t get you out of work.
New snowfall on a Douglas-fir sapling.
There will be no cattle to load today.
Snow in the pines.
The big wind turbines don’t care if the snow is falling.
SNOW DAY!
A really big yard ornament.
So many of the loggers I know have big personalities. It only makes sense that they might have a little something that makes a big statement, or in this case a BIG something that makes a BIG statement. Why not have a vintage skid cat complete with logs and a chainsaw carved equipment operator of redwood.
The Hot Seat
While cruising down the road through the burn I came across this chair. It was sitting quietly off to the side of the road in what had previously been a thicket. It was out of place in the middle of the forest. I don’t know for certain how it came to this place. Probably an old hunter left it behind. Someone who used it to sit comfortably for a long time in a place where he or she could watch for unsuspecting deer to cross the road. Why had they left it? Perhaps, it was simply forgotten, no longer useful, or maybe the hunter was successful and in all the excitement forgot to return for the chair. I think it had been here a long time. It sat there waiting for it’s hunter to return for season after disappointing season. This year, as the anticipation of deer season grew closer, something else came. Not the hunter. Instead it was the conflagration. For a few fiery minutes it became The Hot Seat. The fire roared passed leaving exposed the transformed steel skeletal remains of what was once the chair. Quietly, it still sits and waits.
Water Break
During my travels today, I stopped at a spring, so Blitz and Nellie could get a drink and cool off. They were busy running around, swimming, drinking, and eating some grass. Then, I spotted a small shiny black object in the dirt. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was an obsidian arrowhead. I have no idea how long it had been there, maybe hundreds or thousands of years. The tip was chipped. It had probably struck a rock or bone when it had been shot at it’s prey many years ago. I imagine that once it was chipped the hunter removed it from its shaft to replace it with a new point. It was probably dropped, lost and forgotten, until now. As I looked at the features and the delicate workmanship of this point I can see that the maker took great pride in his work. It was shaped with precise care. The joy in the workmanship of this little obsidian projectile point was evident. It was a utilitarian object, but also a piece of art. I took a picture of the arrowhead so that I could share it on this blog. It is little piece of art in the forest, and history. In California we’re not allowed to collect such artifacts. Maybe in the future, someone else will see it and it will tell them it’s story, as it told me today. I can only imagine, if I had met the maker of this arrowhead that he would have said to me, “hey check this one out, pretty cool isn’t it.” I would have to agree. Like a blog from the past, I was fortunate to take this picture so that I could share it with all of you and I hope you enjoy it.
THE FORESTER ARTIST 