Into the woods, part one
A quiet winter morning at Los Osos Oaks State Reserve. It’s a landscape to move through slowly. Ancient oaks dressed in lichen, contorted shapes - a place out of time. In the images above and below, I decided to celebrate the chaos and enter the mood of the place.
“Until we understand what the land is, we are at odds with everything we touch. And to come to that understanding it is necessary, even now, to leave the regions of our conquest... and re-enter the woods... Only in this silence and darkness can he recover the sense of the world's longevity, of its ability to thrive without him, of his inferiority to it and his dependence on it... As its sounds come into his hearing, and its lights and colors come into his vision, and its odors come into his nostrils, then he may come into its presence as he never has before, and he will arrive in his place and will want to remain. His life will grow out of the ground like the other lives of the place, and take its place among them.” (Wendell Berry - The art of the commonplace: agrarian essays)
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