Apr 192014
 

A long day and night of rain had finally ended, and in the cloud-light of late morning, the Piney Woods Church Road landscape felt saturated with rich colors — mostly shades of green, but occasional patches of bluish-purple where the wisteria blossoms hung.  On my way back down the road — typically a time in which I take few photos, relishing the things I had already encountered — I was drawn to this lone wisteria blossom.  Most of the wisteria flowers bloom in long, dense clusters; this one was a single bloom, by itself.  I felt compelled to photograph it, even though I had already dismissed wisteria as “adequately photographed”.  The result is somehow entrancing, like a suspended dance of color and form….

One

 

Mar 062014
 

I am learning to look everywhere for possible photographs — for potential doorways into wonder.  Sometimes, they appear literally beneath my feet.  That is what happened in the case of this picture.  I looked down just a few steps ahead of me, and glimpsed this composition, already created by happenstance.

Roadfall

Mar 062014
 

On yet another rainy, wintery afternoon, with the air temperature struggling to rise above 40, and the wind chill in the lower 30s, I started off down Piney Woods Church Road hoping to discover something new — some further omen of spring’s return.  I was delighted to find, almost immediately, more red maples in bloom — this time, a couple of trees growing near the intersection with Rico Road.  I snapped a number of photos of them.  Upon returning home, I was most drawn to my images of this particular cluster of flowers.  Alas, a dead stalk of some kind of large weed in the background provided an annoying distraction in every single shot.  So I broke with tradition, trudging back a second time to take the photograph below.

Red Maple Bouquet

 

Jan 262014
 

At last a mild(er) afternoon arrived, with temperatures reaching into the lower 50s.  What I first hoped would be a mostly sunny visit to Piney Woods Church Road turned quickly into a mostly cloudy one.  I couldn’t get enthused about macro work — I kept looking upward for the few places where gray and white clouds thinned to deep blue.  The old pecan trees’ bare branches offer such wonderful skeletal forms, inviting not one or two, but a series of images.  Everywhere I looked, I discovered new possible compositions in the dynamic of trees and sky.

Touching Sky

Jan 242014
 

On a midwinter late afternoon, I found myself less bothered than usual by the cold, and once again sauntering slowly, exploring different views of the Piney Woods Church Road landscape.  I took several photographs looking into a tangle of greenbrier — more inviting to look into than to walk through, that’s for certain.  And I settled on this one for today, with several layers of branches, moving progressively further from focus.  What can you find here, reading between the lines?

Between the Lines

Jan 192014
 

Foliose and fruticose lichens growing on a tree branch, Chattahoochee Hills, Georgia.

Lichens are true oddities of the natural world.  They do not fit squarely into any botanical category, or, for that matter, kingdom of living things.  They are composed of fungi and plants that are either collaborating in a symbiotic relationship or represent the successful enslavement of a member of one kingdom by a member of another.  Are they “algae with space suits”, wrapped in the hyphae (threads) of fungi, and therefore capable of living in such inhospitable environments as bare rock faces?  Or are the “fungi that have taken up farming”, using algae and cyanobacteria (“photobionts”) to produce their food so that they no longer need to work as decomposers?  Either way, the result is an organism whose thallus (body) looks neither like an alga nor a fungus.

There is an impressive body of vocabulary words peculiar to lichens.  One set of terms classifies lichens by the form that the lichen takes.  Lichens that form crusts on rocks are crustose; ones that appear leafy are foliose; and those that have three-dimensional, shrubby forms are called fruticose.   Another set of terms classifies lichens by where they are found:  corticolous (on tree bark); saxicolous (on rock); terricolous (on bare earth); and even lichenicolous (on other lichens).

Then there are the terms for the fruiting bodies, all of which are best appreciated with a hand lens.  These are important to be able to distingish (a task that is both an art and a science), because they play a significant role in lichen identification.  Apothecia are shaped like cups or disks, and release fungal spores.  Perithecia are also spore-bearing structures, but ones that are embedded within the lichen’s body, opening with pores. Isidia are fingerlike projections from a lichen which break off, enabling the lichen to reproduce vegetatively.  Soralia are another means by which lichen can spread vegetatively.  They are dusty patches on the surface of a lichen’s body that release fine particules of algae and fungal threads mixed together (called soralia).  This list is not exhaustive.  And there are even some lichens that have not been observed bearing fruiting bodies of any kind; biologists still do not know how they reproduce.

The oddest thing about lichens, though, might be that they can be found living almost anywhere, yet so few people stop to notice them.  As long as you live where the air is relatively pollution-free (downtown Atlanta has a “lichen-free zone”), you will find them on rocks, tree branches, and disturbed soil.  The best way to enter their world is on hands and knees, with a magnifying lens.  Bring a child along, too.  She will notice them before you do, and will explore their shapes and patterns with a sense of wonder that we adults would do well to emulate.

This article was originally published on April 5, 2010.