Landscapes

March of the Larches

Its already October. For many, that signifies the long march towards winter. Out here in the Pacific Northwest, it represents peak fall colors, savoring hot soups, drinking pumpkin-spice everything, and catching up on life. The first week, however, is perhaps well known for the golden colors displayed by the larches. 

Over the last several years, I have had the pleasant opportunity to explore many of the classic locations to view larches in the Cascades backcountry. And although I can't tell one larch in full gold from another larch, seeing the collective glow from a grove of larches is something else. Especially when backlit or sidelit against a dusting of fresh snow.

Here is my tribute to larches. Hope they shine gold forever.

Okanogan Wenatchee National Forest
WA USA

Glimpses of Summer

And just like that, summer has come to an end in the Pacific Northwest. With temperatures already plunging to the low 40s (~10C), and a series of weather patterns bringing much needed moisture to the mountains, the 'nice' weather window in the higher reaches of the Cascades will be over in a couple of weeks. While not the best year in terms of wildfire and precipitation, every day and every month in the mountains is a treasure-trove of next sights, sounds and experiences.

Here is one from a summer backpack this year to a region I had last visited more than 15 years ago. It was refreshing to experience this beautiful region when I am in a different place in life. And while this was many weeks ago, I still remember the trip like it was yesterday.

Olympic National Forest
WA USA

Sunset on the bar

On our penultimate day of the multi-day trek to the Alaskan Arctic, all that was left to do was to gather around a peaceful sandbar, set up a campfire, and settle down in stories and memories around the warmth of the fire, with a few choice tipples for company. The sun slowly angled its way along the horizon, never fully setting for a very long time. The fire kept the mosquitoes away, and the light kept sleep away.

I don't know when I stood up to go to bed that evening, but I eventually did. Not before admiring the colorful vegetation around the sandbar.

Gates of the Arctic National Park
AK USA

Fall in the High Divide

Fall has certainly arrived early in the North Cascades this year. The high alpine bushes, typically blueberry and other small shrubs are teh first to turn, signaling the end of summer. The spots where I previously used to see the transition of color in mid-September are now changing their shade much earlier. was it due to the cooler than average summer, or the lower than average precipitation - I am not sure.

However, the colors did make for a very photogenic hike through the higher sub-alpine terrain of the North Cascades. A little bit of disturbance in the atmosphere also added a bit of drama and depth to the scene. The easy access to so many dreamy vistas is why I keep coming back month after month to the same location.

Mt Baker Snoqualmie National Forest
WA USA

Amidst the Granite Walls

Park # 61 - Gates of the Arctic National Park
The Gates is a massive park situated entirely within the Arctic circle in Alaska, characterized by a long (but not very tall) ranges running east to west along the Continental Divide, and forming the border between the boreal and tundra climactic zones. Its wilderness experience is unparalleled, next to only the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. There are valleys in this where one could spend days without meeting another soul or witnessing any signs of civilization.

I chose to skip all that and visit the Arrigetch region of the Gates - known for its towering granite peaks with dramatic names such as Caliban, Xanadu, Elephant's tooth (given by climbers, of course). It is one of the most heavily visited areas of the park, so much so that there is even a very walkable climbers trail going up the valley. Despite that, it was challenging, and amazingly beautiful, especially when the weather cooperated. 

Having explored this, it is certainly one of the parks I want to come back to explore some of it's more remote corners, of which there are so many.

Gates of the Arctic National Park
AK USA

Wild Alaska

The Alaskan arctic is probably one of the last unexplored frontiers for me. The rugged terrain, unpredictable weather, and a short season, coupled with mosquitoes swarming during the prime hiking season means that it is not on the top of my bucket list. The cost and difficulty in getting there compounds the inertia to visit it. But the last two National Parks on my list lie in the arctic, and that was needed incentive to overcome the inertia.

I expect the landscape to look a lot like the above, with rugged mountains rising above vast glaciated valleys that are filled with marsh, tussock and alder making it a challenge to walk through. Add in a few freezing river crossings too. It is going to be an interesting experience, and hopefully a rewarding one.

Wrangell St. Elias National Park
AK USA

Falling to Winter

Time is the one true constant—an invisible current that carries us forward, whether we’re ready or not. It’s the most honest measure of what we value: the hours we devote to work, the moments we share with loved ones, the days we steal away to travel and explore. Yet once spent, time is irretrievable. And as we age, its pace seems to quicken, propelling us ever faster toward the inevitable horizon.

In this digital age, one of the greatest thieves of time is doom-scrolling. I’ve succumbed to it more often than I’d like to admit—a habit I wrestle with, especially as the world around me slips by in fleeting seasons. The spring wildflowers I wandered among feel like they bloomed just yesterday, their colors still vivid in my memory. Summer hikes and backpacking adventures seem only moments ago. The joy of autumn’s fiery foliage still lingers. And tomorrow, surely, will be winter. The cycle spins faster now, each turn of the wheel a blur.

Sometimes I long to return—to the wide-eyed wonder of my teens, the boundless optimism of my twenties, the memory-rich tapestry of my thirties. But time doesn’t rewind. All I can do is move forward, carried by its current, hoping to make each moment count before it too becomes a memory.

Oregon
USA

The last of Fall

In the blink of an eye, autumn’s brilliance has faded into the mist of early winter. The Pacific Northwest, once draped in vibrant foliage and crisp air, now braces under atmospheric rivers and dwindling daylight.

As nature slows, so do we—retreating indoors to rest, reflect, and recalibrate. This seasonal shift invites a deeper pause: to acknowledge the personal transformations we've weathered, and the seismic shifts felt across our communities and country.

In these uncertain times, I’m leaning into the beauty that remains. The fiery hues of fall, like those captured here in the North Cascades, remind me that even fleeting moments can offer lasting comfort.

Here’s to finding light in memory, and strength in stillness.

Mt Baker Wilderness
WA USA

Smoking Fuego

High above the heart of Guatemala, sunrise from Mt. Acatenango unfolds like a celestial symphony. Plains stretch endlessly, dissolving into a deep indigo haze beneath a sky brushed with twilight pink. Volcanic peaks pierce the morning clouds—smooth, conical silhouettes rising in quiet defiance against the rolling sea of valleys below. As the sun climbs, the palette shifts: blues and pinks melt into molten gold, igniting the horizon with warmth and wonder.

Sunset mirrors the magic in reverse. Sometimes, remnants of afternoon storms catch the last light and blaze like fire across the sky. Other times, the rain lingers, veiling the stars until late into the night. And on rare occasions, a sudden eruption breaks through the clouds—a violet burst, a shower of glowing embers, a plume of smoke curling into the dusk.

Though I only witnessed a few sunrises and sunsets, each one etched the sublime beauty of this volcanic realm into memory. A place where light dances with shadow, and the Earth breathes in color.

Guatemala

Silver Linings

Expectations: A crisp autumn weekend hiking through the Cascade Mountains, chasing golden larches and postcard-perfect vistas.

Reality: A fierce and unannounced winter storm barreled through the region, plunging temperatures into the low 20s and unleashing winds strong enough to flatten tents. The landscape was blanketed in a fresh inch of snow—beautiful, but brutal.

None of the forecasts hinted at the severity we encountered in the high country. The mild conditions at the trailhead gave no warning of what lay ahead. As we climbed, thick banks of clouds rolled in swiftly, unloading icy rain and snow across the peaks. We knew then: the night would be unforgiving.

By morning, the storm had passed. In its wake, it left behind a breathtaking scene—crisp air, golden larches dusted in snow, and light that danced across the ridges. A photographer’s dream, even if our fingers were numb.

North Cascades National Park
Washington, USA