'ROUND THE MOUNTAIN

Since the trip to Mt. Rainier was driven by the hopes of seeing wildflowers still in bloom,

I post here a sampling of the happy encounters we had.

Beargrass with a View:

Beargrass:

Alpine meadows of blue:

False Hellebore:

Mountain Lupine is more stunning to me than the nursery variety

because it is not fat ad compact, but much more delicate:

Magenta Paintbrush and False Hellebore play peek-a-boo with The Mountain:

... and a Ptarmigan plays hide-'n-seek with us:

On the trail to Myrtle Falls just before sunset:

Pasqueflower stands tall enough to be back-lit by the setting sun,

like candles stuck in the meadow just before dusk:

(click to enlarge)

To correct a typo in the following post, Pasqueflower is jokingly referred to

as "Mouse ON a stick", not "in" a stick.

I CAN'T WAIT!

When Western Washington natives exclaim, "The mountain is out!", they mean that Mount Rainier is visible, and not hiding amongst the frequent clouds, looking like a high mass of clouds itself.

Well, for me and a photo friend, not only was The Mountain "out" for us a couple of days ago, but it was "in", "on", and all "around" for us!

This was our first glimpse of Rainier as we drove to Sunrise early on a gorgeous morning, "in" our laps:

We knew we had the ideal weather; it was even shirt-sleeve warm.

Here, from Sunrise, is the Tatoosh Range:

We timed this outing in hopes of seeing the wildflowers still in bloom.

The view, the weather, and yes - the wildflowers - made this

the perfect day:

This is the seedhead for the Pasqueflower, which I think is lovlier than

the bloom itself.  A ranger said they like to call it, "Mouse-in-a-stick"!

This photo is of Yakima Peak, taken from Lake Tipsoo.

It looks like I used a fish-eye lens, but I don't have one of those!  Must be the

perspective; I was on my tummy:

Another Pasqueflower seedhead:

Meet this teeny butterfly, about 1 inch tall.

I call him "Blue Angel":

The more we drove, the more we felt "on" the Mountain:

Lake Tipsoo:

This trip was to be all about wildflowers, so in my following posts, I hope

there will be some of those.  I am only partially along in the viewing of

my photos, but, as I said above, I just couldn't wait to start sharing!

INTO THE SUNSET

Even though I photographed a bud, below, Dear D's prize clematis is on its way out.  He takes tender care from the first miniscule shoots in late spring, assisting each new tendril to find its climbing place on the trellis.  I know I take the same photos every year, but I do so just like I take family pics, because we find joy in the growth.

These were all taken within moments, trying different settings.

Most of the blossoms look like this; spent and petal-less, but we still love the delicate remains.

On a drive the other night, I uttered the familiar cry of a novice photographer: "Stop!"

These hollyhocks were worshipping the setting sun, and they simply glowed, even from a distance, with the back light.

A couple of creatures (bee and ant) were tucking in for the night:

RED SUN AT DUSK

Last night, soon after a grandson and his sweet wife left our house after having dinner and a visit here, they called from a cell phone.  We thought maybe they had left something behind.  No; they wanted to tell us about the incredible sun and "ordered" us to go outside to see it.

So glad they did!  Moments later, a friend in the photo-know also called.

This was just at dusk, and I was not certain I could even get a photo.

We were awed by the brilliant red-orange, and decided it was probably that way because

of the atmosphere created by forest fires "just over the hill' from us.

As dusk deepened, so did the intensity of orange-red of the setting sun.

This was a sun which kept all the glory to itself instead of letting it leak out and spread across

the sky in usual sunset-reaching colors.

Would it burst from sheer concentrated, held-in color?

(I never enhance my photos or saturate the colors; this is how we saw it).