All posts by tjccamas@comcast.net

National and regional award-winning journalist, photographer, and activist (Hanford, Spokane River, regional clean air issues, national nuclear weapons and waste policy). Former senior editor Camas Magazine, former client and communications director, Center for Justice, Spokane.

Prayers in Natural Light

Sixty favorite images from The Devil’s Toenail to the Cascade crest, and sometimes over the edge.

Click on photograph for details and pricing. Shipping costs (typically $8 to $10) are not included. Tim Connor photography (c)2013-2017. All images are copyright protected and may only be republished with permission. For additional info and orders: tjccamas@comcast.net

Beyond cellular service
a point of emphasis
The beauty of experience
earthwaves
Upon arrival
what she says when I call
Footbridge in an afterlife
Silk stream on the north fork
North chamber Potholes Coulee
Currently jade
As the crow flies
The heron holds its ground
In memory of Marcia Dewinter
Oak leaf arteries
Epiphany
The talus garden
Peter and the apostles at dawn
The Boulder on the Bumping
My Valentine
Water and the Willow
Entropy
Rock Creek searches for the ocean
Autumn beneath the rim
String Theory
The Sisters at sunrise
mountains and the mountain
The root of it
Sea of Palouse
Deluge
The sky you and I share
Rising from the talus
Unreasonably orange
The light within the grove
Grace is also ephemeral
Storm on the bunchgrass straits
Wenatchee River near Leavenworth
Orange is the new blue
farewell
New Year’s Day
Steamboat Rock, Take 2
Tiara
How rocks get wet
Wishing you were here
Aspen and red twig in Northrup Canyon
Iris in the hollow
Path through the marsh
Treeline
The gold in Rock Creek
Time to inhale
Virga for Odessa
Seventeen ways to blue
Fluctuation
The Meadow off Elder Road
The Falls at Hawk Creek
Peter and the Apostles, a wider view
The flame in the park
leaves in the multiverse
The west wall
The Bend in the Gap
A woodpecker’s place
Sunset near Lamont

 

 

Light on The Feathers

In a timeless cataract at Frenchman Coulee the future clings to the past.

For the 13,000 or so years before Frenchman Coulee became wildly popular among humans who like to climb rocks, a striking formation of basalt spires near its core stood merely as a graceful monument to the astonishing power of water and ice. The massive pillars are still here. It’s just that on any warm day, and many cold ones as well, fit and well-equipped people are attaching themselves to forty-foot walls of stone. The climbers’ resolve and athleticism offer what is, at least, a touch of poetry and elan to one of Washington’s lesser known natural wonders.

Woman on the edge of The Feathers

At first sight—as you look up beneath the rim of the coulee’s central alcove—it’s hard to trust what you’re seeing. Known as “The Feathers” it is a formation of exposed basalt crystals that barely withstood a succession of devastating floods. From the air, it looks as though a creature with jaws the size of the Rose Bowl has taken two bites from coulee’s upper terrace. The Feathers somehow survived as a gently curving causeway between the bite marks. There are places where you can easily walk from one side to the other, stepping through gaps between the massive crystals.

A decent camera can take the picture, capturing the nearby rock faces as well as the distant giant blades of the Wild Horse wind farm, straddling the flanks of Whiskey Dick Mountain on the far side of the river. But only a soul can register the deeper dimensions such a scene evokes.

Continue reading Light on The Feathers