This is the most beautiful film. I posted it here five years ago but it had disappeared, so catch it now while you can, before it goes again. It’s a film unlike any other. Time passes slowly from one life to another. From goatherd to goat to tree to charcoal.
We each have four successive lives within ourselves; each one contained within the others. We are mineral; we are made of salt, water and organic matter. We are vegetable; like plants we breathe, reproduce and nourish ourselves. We are animal; we have imagination, memory and knowledge of the outside world. In the end we are rational beings; we possess will and reason. We each have four distinct lives within ourselves… and so we must discover ourselves four times.
Quietly, patiently, trees endure. They are the oldest living beings we come to know during our time on earth, living bridges into our planet’s expansive past.
Follow a group of skiers, snowboarders, scientists and healers to the birch forests of Japan, the red cedars of British Columbia and the bristlecones of Nevada, as they explore an ancient story written in rings.
In the vanishing lowland rainforests of Borneo, new research is underway to uncover and understand the unique cultural behaviors in wild orangutans, before it’s too late. There, photographer Tim Laman, researcher Cheryll Knott and young explorer Robert Suro have documented orangutans making pillows, fashioning umbrellas and displaying regional greetings. The project, 20 years in the making, offers a fascinating glimpse into the habits of wild orangutans, as well as a window into human evolution. With their habitat disappearing at an alarming rate, this research may prove to be key in protecting this critically endangered species.
Once a year, adventurous arborist and tree climbing instructor, Tim Kovar takes a select few on a climb up one of the tallest trees in the world — a summit he says less people have attempted than Mt. Everest. For an unforgettable way to battle nature deficit disorder and re-connect with the Earth, we purchased a couple carabiners and brought way too much camera equipment 180 feet up an 850-year-old California redwood called “Grandfather” to see how squirrels dream.
It’s April 2023, and I will be 70 years old. What better way to mark the occasion than to plant 70 trees, not in the ground, but in the window of the Rowley Gallery. I sent out a call to 70 artists and got lots of replies. I could plant a small forest. So here’s a small celebration of trees, of their variety and complexity, their shelter and enchantment, and all their green, filtered, numinous enlightenment. Continue reading “70 Trees”
I’ve still not been getting out much but on New Year’s Day I managed to get 5 miles from home to visit the Minchenden Oak. I didn’t get such a great welcome, but thankfully I was not denied access. It looked like it was meant to be closed, but its makeshift gate was on the ground when I arrived. This is the only entrance to the Minchenden Oak Garden, a small walled garden created in 1934 to safeguard the ancient Minchenden Oak. Continue reading “The Minchenden Oak”
The date on the photo is 21 August 2022. It was a Sunday. We started out at Gate No.84, Earl’s Path north, and headed down the Green Ride into the forest. It’s a steep hill but always steeper coming back. Continue reading “Gate No.84”
It’s a balm of leaf light. Catch it on a good day and you can carry it with you for months. This was mid August, now as I write it’s mid October and I’m housebound, too sick to walk in the woods, so I gaze at these photos and remember how we bathed in the green light of sweet chestnuts, how it washed over us, and Perry Wood is a convalescence of trees. Continue reading “Perry Wood”
Eggardon Hill is an Iron Age hill fort to the north-east of Bridport in Dorset. I live on a farm half-way up it; the hill dominates the landscape behind us and in front there is a far-reaching view across Lyme Bay to Devon. My studio looks directly out on to Eggardon, the window at the back perfectly frames it. Continue reading “An Eggardon Summer”