Today is the second and last day of the Dungeness Bonsai Society annual bonsai fest, its 41st. If you’re local and would like to walk through a miniature forest of trees as art, it’s worth a trip to the Sequim Pioneer Park. The Satsuki Azalea above, over 20 years old, is one of the showiest examples of the art.
Bonsai artists confine trees in small pots and manipulate them through pruning and shaping. The effect, over time, is to create a gorgeous miniature tree.
This Japanese garden juniper is from 20 to 25 years old. Its owner began training its growth habits in 1994. This is a discipline of great patience.
There are more than 50 trees on display today, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. The park is located at 387 East Washington Street.
Spring happens fast here. First there are buds, barely perceptible. Then a sunny day or two comes along and it seems as if everything turns green and flourishes. I’m spending a lot of time looking up and taking it in these days.
I routinely have to remind myself of the differences between pussy willows, cattails, and catkins. These, I believe, are catkins, “a flowering spike of trees such as willow and hazel. Catkins are typically downy, pendulous, composed of flowers of a single sex, and wind-pollinated.” These little downy bits are on a willow. And there’s another sign of spring: notice the leaves unfurling at the tip of the branch.
You don’t have to look far on the Olympic Peninsula to find today’s theme of “Wet.” The Hoh Rainforest, part of Olympic National Park, is one of the wettest places in the U.S. with an average rainfall of 12-14 feet (3.5 to 4.25 meters). In places, as along this stream, it’s hard to see where the water ends and foliage begins. And if you’re visiting when it’s raining, water is everywhere. It’s impossible to not be wet.
To see other interpretations of today’s City Daily Photo theme, click here.
This tree at St. Luke’s Church looks like it’s about to burst into bloom at any minute.
A revegetation project is underway on a field north of Carrie Blake Park. Volunteers planted tiny saplings a few years ago and they’re being carefully protected from browsing animals. On a grey day the field has a slightly ghostly appearance.
Looking over my posts from 2016 these two shots from Butchart Gardens last spring really caught my eye. In the middle of winter the foliage and color was a sight for sore eyes.
I think I’ve formulated a 2017 resolution: get back to Butchart Gardens again this spring.