ARCHIVE - Landscapes of Change: Dry Falls » Deep Lake

ARCHIVE - Pot Holes Near Deep Lake – Map

Tue, 30 Oct 2012 20:53:08 +0000

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ARCHIVE - Deep Lake Map

Thu, 25 Oct 2012 18:43:29 +0000

Legend:

Pushpin=sigificant place

Line=approximate route travelled

Warning sign=warning

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ARCHIVE - Pot Holes and Deep Lake – Field Notes

Wed, 24 Oct 2012 21:36:31 +0000

Deep Lake

Deep Lake’s water is clear with algae in shallow areas along the shore
areas around deep lake look like seasonal flood plains. These areas are characterized by fine sediment, extremely arid sediment, and a lack of vegetation.

Water lines are visible on parts of the shore and on nearby rocks indicating that deep lakes depth has varied over time.

Pothole

The structure of the pothole is circular
The Basalt walls of the pothole are heavily fractured. One is able to remove pieces of basalt with bare hands.
The pothole floor is littered with lichen covered rocks, with some moss present in the persistently shaded areas.
Various trees and shrubs inhabit the pothole floor

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ARCHIVE - Pot Holes Near Deep Lake Collage Essay

Wed, 24 Oct 2012 21:21:46 +0000

A Pothole Near Deep Lake

We walk along a seemingly endless road, with smiles on hand until we come upon Deep Lake. The lake is the ultimate symbolism of life itself; a green tint shows thriving algae and the reflection of Autumn’s deciduous trees are crystal clear in the water. As I walk to the end of the dock, I spot a cave about a half-mile away in the side of cliff and decide to pursue. The walk there is a bitch; wet sand crawls into my socks and a spider web tickles me every other step – I fucking hate spiders. Upon reaching the cave, we realize we were mistaken. What we thought was a cave is actually a tunnel that slips all the way through to the other side of this massive rock. For whatever reason, no one immediately checks what lies ahead, and everyone sits down, free-writing simultaneously. I notice this group of classmates barely knows one another, yet has an ability to silently communicate. Silence – a perfect time to convey thoughts, especially when the only pretty flower for miles sits next to you and is rooted inside a god damn rock of all places. With rumps sore from writing on jagged rocks, we move on, into this mysterious tunnel. On the other side lays a pothole, no water, but plant life flourishes here. The place I thought this would be was a place I didn’t want to visit – another boring stretch of eastern, WA terrain. Yet, to all of our dismay, a roughly 75ft diameter pothole rests, the only green tree for quite a wander sleeps here, small caves probably sheltering slithering serpents are scattered throughout. Climbing the pothole to the peak, an absolutely vivid photo is branded into our heads – Deep Lake at its best. The reflection is even sharper than before, so perfect that we almost believe a cliff and trees are lying underwater. As if things couldn’t get better, the sun begins to seep through the atmospheric sheets and I feel comfortable in every sense of the word, and the instant I feel too warm, a light drizzle kisses me. Inside my notebook, words flow like the very breeze that grasps me. Now, meditation, without proclamation. A place so unfamiliar to me, making me feel so wanted. The breeze, the sun, the rain, birds chirping… This place… It gives me permission to leave my body, permission to become one with it… This place… This place is my place.

I can fly…

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ARCHIVE - Potholes and Deep Lake – Gallery

Tue, 23 Oct 2012 21:17:09 +0000

[nggallery id=29]

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ARCHIVE - Deep Lake Collage Essay

Fri, 19 Oct 2012 22:35:02 +0000

The higher the climb the steeper the slope; finally, a bird’s view of the once obstructed end of Deep Lake. The lake stretches in front of me, blue-green against the red of the cliffs. Reflections of dusty red bluffs on the majestic blue-green surface of Deep Lake. The blue green mixture looks as if someone let paint flow freely over a canvas. The reflection of the northern slope scribes an illusory false peak onto a surface of glass. An explosion of autumnal colors surrounds the placid lake. Reds, yellows, oranges and whites, scattered from water’s edge to deciduous tips. The lake is a place of intersections: earth and water, civilization and wilderness, the familiar and the alien.

A dock provides an embassy for terrestrial creatures to mingle with their aquatic counterparts. The frogs and birds still sing out in the familiar tones, my wandering minstrel troupe singing the songs of home and childhood. The icy depths sink into my body, refusing to let me move, a white flash, hard to breathe; suddenly I’m free, moving as fast as possible towards the dock, towards warmth. I feel lighter when I emerge, the weight of my old self still gripped by the icy lake: I am reborn, baptized in the waters of Deep Lake. The lake washes away all the dust of travel, then down to the deeper filth of the past; I am reborn in my image.

A sort of homecoming occurred: alienated by all this brown and gray a return to cool water and green plants set my heart at ease. A familiar world seen with eyes newly opened by an alien landscape. Wandering the water’s edge becomes oddly similar to navigating life: know boundaries by watching their edge. If you cannot be inspired through silence, then you will not be inspired by actions or words either. Silver sage and yarrow dance in the wind, I pluck a few, leaving my complete story; my hair in its stead. A night time visit reveals a new landscape, a gentle mist rising off the water’s surface, drawing the eye upwards only to be intercepted by the celestial plane displaying the most astounding light show since the Acid Tests. The fluid and flexible will always prevail with time; power, not force

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ARCHIVE - Deep Lake Gallery

Fri, 19 Oct 2012 22:33:09 +0000

[nggallery id=35]

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ARCHIVE - Deep Lake Field Notes

Fri, 19 Oct 2012 22:30:45 +0000

This lake is nestled in between two massive rock faces. This area was likely made by the flood digging deeper and deeper down, through an area of substantially softer rocks. The sheer banks reflect this.

The lake has a good amount of algae, and some smaller aquatic plants, perhaps milfoil?

Long dark grass grows along its south banks. Behind this grass grows birch trees, flinging their branches over the lake. On the north bank, the patches of grass are fewer; the bank is probably too steep for them to take root. The south bank rises up into a small plain, covered in potholes of different (mostly large) sizes.

There are three birds, one going chikachikachika, one saying kreyew and the other going pewp pewp, or something along those lines. There’s no sign of mammal, although deer probably come here to drink.

I don’t know what sort of fish live in this lake, but I have seen one. It swam under the dock I was sitting on, a seven inch speckled fish. It looked like some sort of trout. The gnats are here. Freshwater snail shells are abundant along the banks.

The only sound here is that of my fellow travelers writing. Rolling ridges of broken basalt. Winding paths, leading from mans road to earth’s open arms. A vast lake reaches it icy depths into the twisting cynon. Patches of green spotted from above. Upon closer inspection massive algae blooms explode in the underwater world. Swaying with the waters current, a magnificent dance of blue-green reflections mesmerizing my mind..

Deciduous trees display their yellows, greens and reds, like ripe fruit falling from their limbs. The water slows as it reaches the western bank, liquid versus solid. The fluid and flexible will always win over time, using power instead of force. The cool air pushes its way across a still and mirrored lake. Fish wait patiently below the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch a passing meal. The reflection of the northern slope paints a surreal replication. It looks as if I could fall into the mirror and maybe land on the peak of a false hill. When I walk the sloping hills along Deep Lake’s southern edge, I remember the importance of walking through diverse terrain. It pushes my mind to shape a way, a path with multiple choices. I must measure my known and experiential capacity against what I see ahead, obstacles between my goal and I. Critical thinking and creativity flourish, a freshness arises from somewhere deep within. You are challenged only by your self.

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