Hello, howdy! I’ve had some people express interest in these photos recently…so given that bristlecones are by far one of my most favorite things in life, I was pretty elated that others found some solace and/or joy in them as well. I was recently asked “Are bristlecones more than a tree to you?” I didn’t hyperventilate, but I sort of wanted to, because yes, they are so much more than a tree. “Are they some sort of deity to you?” That’s exactly what they are. Every time I see an old growth grove (I love the newbies too!) it becomes a spiritual experience for me. Overstimulating. Mesmerizing. All of that warm and fuzzy stuff. I have no shame in admitting that they bring me to tears every time. They have all my respect.
I really enjoy sharing the back story behind photos, since they all have meaning and history. I don’t just take photos to take photos. I want and need (so needy) to be a part of the moment, not just there to document something I’m trying to conquer. Usually, it’s very simple. But simplicity is usually best.
I don’t love wandering/hiking in the dark, but I went out solo this morning, way before the sun even thought about coming up, hoping there’d be a decent sunrise. No noteworthy sunrise, but that fat star did hit these few trees for about 10 minutes.
The sky, the clouds, the colors, the wind, the trees, were all changing rapidly. It was like everything was in some bizarre and magical fast forwarding of…whatever you wanted it to be. It was short-lived but glorious. I hiked for about 5 more hours that morning, and it got cloudy right after I took these photos, started snowing. I found some incredible trees that I had never found before. It was one of my top 5 wanders for a lot of reasons, enchanting and otherworldly, as bristlecones always are.