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“Have you understood all these things?” They said to him,“Yes.” And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the Kingdom of Heaven is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.” (Matthew 13:52)

Since the time of my elementary school days, when I was deemed responsible enough to wander further than the front yard, I have been an explorer at heart. I think most boys are wired in this way, but it manifest in different expressions. Some are content to wander merely in their imaginations, reading books or watching movies. Others need something more kinetic like playing video games, or climbing trees . While I am definitely more in the later category, there is yet another level of exploration that I would like to highlight in this post.

You might have already guessed that what I am referring to is spiritual exploration, but to many spiritual exploration is often reduced to the practice of prayer or meditation, disciplines that focus one’s attention on the “unseen world”. In such practices the intent is usually less to explore and more to “ground” or “center” one’s-self or appeal to God for aid or peace of mind. What I’d like to share here is something more akin to heightened awareness, something that we all experience on some level but perhaps not as often as we ought to.

To explore in the way that I am talking about does not require traveling to entirely new or uncharted territories, though that often does help, because it heightens our sensenses and awareness to what’s around us, helping us to see things that we may have not paid much attention to before.

That being said, I did have the great pleasure this last weekend of traveling to a part of the state that I have only briefly explored twice before in my life, the John Day river basin. Although it’s only about a 3 1/2 hr. drive from my home the area contains a unique mix of geological features that are only rarely seen elsewhere in the world. And particularly as a photographer, I relish the chance to explore these phenomenal land structures and frame their beauty.  Which leads me to the first aspect of spiritual exploration.

Eager Expectation

By the time I reached Maupin on the Eastern side of Mt. hood, about two and a half hours into my drive, I was getting pretty antsy, not just because I have never been able to sit comfortably for long periods of time, but because the tall trees were behind and the views were opening up. Coming over the mountain pass the sky had looked questionable, hazy with what looked like smoke in the air, and so I had wondered how clear the views would be. But by the time I reached Bakeoven road and begin to climb again onto the Eastern plains the haze begin to lift and my hopes for amazing views was starting to be realized.

Bakeoven road truly lives up to its name during this time of year. Essentially a tree-free landscape covered with dried up grasses, sage brush, and various weeds. The occasional weathered building and fence accentuated the feel of this dry and often sweltering landscape.  Perhaps the most dominant feature of this area though are the massive power towers and lines that branch out from the Bonneville power station. 

This is not the kind of place that most would choose to homestead, or even choose to travel through, but I loved this uncluttered and quiet place, where things like the rusling of grass in the wind and the buzzing of bees on sage flowers can be noticed.

The destination I was intending to pursue for that day was an 8 mile hike still an hour’s drive away, but I was hesitant as I hopped back in the car. Certainly there was more here to see and perceive than what could be gained by a casual glance, and I knew that this was the hard choice that I was going to have to make many times throughout the next day and a half; to stop and gaze more deeply at what is already before me or to keep moving on to the next scene.

At the next highway intersection, was a little town called Shaniko. Despite its weathered appearance the little town had a fair amount of people congregating there that day, and it was clearly designed to be a tourist trap, with somewhat preserved old buildings, antique cars and other farm equipment, all staged with an artistic flare.

The next town was Antelope, a formally thriving little community that was nearly completely deserted after the Rajneesh cult takeover back in the 80’s. Even more than Shaniko, which at least had some intentional artistic updates, Antelope really had the feel of a place frozen in time.

What struck me most profoundly was the playground at the old schoolhouse. Complete with the same kinds of monkey bars, merry-go-round and metal slide I grew up with, it was a true flash from the past and slice of Americana that made me ponder how good we really did have it back then.

We may have suffered a few cracked noggins, burnt legs and nauseous dizzy spells, but those were the glorious fires that formed us, toughened us up and taught us that the best thrills in life have dangers hardwired into them. And that’s more than just okay, I believe that’s how God intended it to be!

Exiting out the back side of Antelope lay an idyllic windy highway that thread into the hills, seeming to promise that no matter what lie ahead it would no doubt be epic.

About 20 minutes later I arrived at the John Day National Monument – Clarno Unit, the beginning place of my adventure on foot. It was just as impressive as I had recalled, and before even hitting the trail I had to stop and take in the beauty of the rocks and sky just from the roadside.

I think the thing that most fully immersed me into this spectacular terrain, though, was the pungent aroma of Juniper. Pine and Cedar are very nice fragrances, as well, but I think Juniper is the best!  It’s almost like plunging into a hot spring, where it feels like the aroma is actually penetrating every pore of your body, cleansing you and healing whatever is not right inside. I could imagine this is probably why smoking weed is so attractive to some folks. Although I’ve never puffed on a joint myself, I can imagine this is why such things have the attraction that they do. Perhaps the apostle John was experiencing something like this when he wrote in his revelation epistle that “the leaves of the trees were for the healing of the nations”. Of course, he was just using it metaphorically, to illustrate how our service to others heals broken human souls, but to smell such sweetness really helps to understand how much power God’s love has to change us and others, even from the outside coming in.

The next thing I was surprised to discover is that apparently next to no one had explored this trail for some time. It quickly disappeared into wild grass and brush and the only way I was able to navigate it was with an offline trail app I had downloaded before I arrived.  Of course, this didn’t concern me much because my intent was indeed to explore new territory, whether it was a popular place or not. Still, I almost felt as though I were treading where I should not, particularly as nesting birds flew out from their cover as I climbed up the hill. It was not my intent to be disruptive but just, for a short time, to enter into their world.

This is what I mean by seeing with “spiritual insight”.  Not just taking things in from a first person perspective, and asking questions that satisfy my own curiosity, but trying to shove out every agenda, other than that of the environment I am stepping into, and letting it show me or speak to me whatever it wills, and specifically whatever it’s Creator (God) wills.

Looking Outside The Box But Inside The Frame

It wasn’t long before I was drawn off the trail, or at least where the trail was supposed to be, and exploring a hillside where the views seemed to be most spectacular.

As Golden hour came upon me I began to not just wander, but to search a little more intentionally for a strategic location to capture the elements of the area that spoke most dramatically to me. I loved the color on the rocks, the back lit wildflowers and the distant rolling hills but trying to squeeze them all into one picture and with a pleasing composition, as the sun was setting, was going to be a challenge. 

This is about the time I usually start to talk to God, and pray that I not only be able to perceive what he’s doing, but to share a little part in it,… perhaps even to be able to capture an image that reflects a bit of His astounding glory. Now I’m not wanting to brag here, but the truth is it usually works. Whether it’s God who specifically directs me to where I should set up my camera, or whether I just naturally gravitate to the place where it all comes together at that magic moment, I can not say.  I know that it just happens, and for that I am exceedingly grateful!

What I want to point out here is not just that God can help us take pretty pictures, though I truly believe He does do that and even for those who don’t acknowledge His involvement in that process, but within those pretty pictures is framed something even more profound. In fact, every picture no matter how well composed and dramatic the scene contains a story, frozen in time. And anytime someone looks at that picture and really studies it can begin to interpret that story.  And so as one notices the various elements within a scene, and their relationship to the other elements within that scene, an awareness of deeper meaning is revealed.  For instance, if you notice what the prominent elements in my sunset picture are you will take note that the sun is dramatically affecting them all. From the rocks and flowers to the hillsides and road running through the middle, all are shimmering more intensely then they would normally be because the angle the sun is shining on them, filtered through the atmosphere. Another thing someone could notice is the age or season of different elements in the picture. Some of those elements could be seen in that scene almost as they are there thousands of years ago. While other elements like the road, the grass and the flowers, would no doubt have looked much different not that long ago. And so in one picture is captured a moment in time that at least on some level will never look like that exactly again. Soon those flowers will wither, the trees along the river edge will lose their leaves, and the rocks and hillsides will have eroded to one degree of another. Every photograph contains elements of both life and death in them at different stages of development and decay, and yet no matter at what time you freeze that frame there is beauty to be found. Perhaps not as dramatic as during the setting sun, but no less significant in the grander scheme of things.

Here is another picture, only more tightly framed, from the same scene, a few minutes later.

Though it has many of the same elements in it as the previous picture, note how differently the light falls on the hills and how at the top of the s-curve in the road a car is driving with its lights on. Where did it come from and where is it going? Wherever it is, it’s long past now. And those bright green fields at the left side of the frame, what’s growing in them? Whatever it is probably hasn’t been there very long and probably won’t be there very much longer.

To me these pictures are far more special as I let my mind wander to these things. It gives me a greater appreciation for the unique privilege of experiencing the “here and now”, knowing that it didn’t escape me, and that I not only got to enjoy it then but can even share that moment with others into the future.

About 20 minutes later, after I scrambled down a slippery crumbly rock cliff, to make it to the road before dark fell I noticed a large bird swoop down onto a rock not too far from me. I’d been carrying my 5lb, 600mm telephoto lens in my backpack and thought I better put this thing to use if I’m going to carry it with me all this way. By this time the light was so dim that my autofocus could not even find the subject so I had to focus manually. Meanwhile the bird flew to a new location, behind a tree and I thought I had lost it. But then it moved one last time to a location even closer and in full view.  As it turned out it wasn’t just a typical hawk, as I had thought, it was a Great horned owl!

Not the sharpest picture ever, as I was shooting at ISO 6400, and at 1/5th of a second, but a fun capture no less!

These are the moments that turn novice bird watchers into fanatic wildlife photographers, who spend all their money on fancy gear and travel to exotic locations.  But lucky for me I am already addicted to every other kind of photography, so I won’t be  tempted to expend all of my energy in that particular direction. But, I can see how it happens!

As I walked the mile or two back to my car, the sky changed dramatically several times, creating more drama to capture, especially with the rock lahars silhouetted in front of it.

What an amazing world we live in! I thought. And how blessed am I to be here and see it!

I intended to do some astrophotography that evening but the clouds were covering things up pretty good, and so instead I drove to the next area I wished to explore for the morning time.

Where Past Meets The Present

In the morning there was still a pretty heavy cloud cover, especially in the Eastern sky, and the sun was not able to squeeze though. Nevertheless, I stopped at some of the more notable sites along the scenic route, to at least record that I had been there. Even in the dim light these dramatic landscapes popped with vibrant color. I loved the mix of ancient rock structures with seasonal native plants, each totally different in various ways and yet still entirely complimentary of each other. 

Near Sheep Rock there is a visitor center and I stopped there to look at the trail maps and other notable things that I should keep an eye out for. This is where I found a flyer that informed me I was traveling along a designated byway route named “Journey Through Time”. The reasons for this obviously being that the area contains a large amount of fossils and remnants of rock formations that have been around for a very long time. But it hit me that that title might also perfectly describe my own experience, traveling through these places, and specifically as I watched the weather change, the slowly deteriorating old structures and farm equipment, and the local summertime flowers fade.

One old farm house, near Mascall Overlook especially interested me. Nestled under some large trees, that probably weren’t so large when the house was built, with old growth siding that will probably out-last most modern houses built today. 

Despite holes in the roof and open exposure to the elements, the inside was also holding up pretty well. 

“Will this place still be standing here, in another hundred years”, I pondered. Probably not that long, but it will still make beautiful background scenery for a while.

Finally about 9 a.m. the sun begin to peek through the clouds, and I made my way back up to the overlook, to see better what drama would transpire.

Looking east beyond the farm house layers of hills and farm properties begin to shimmer beneath streams of light. As with most of my trip, thus far, I was completely alone, taking in the scene and I wondered how many people living in the valley below had taken the time to stand here and drink in this view, on such a magnificent morning as this.

Turning around I could see that the light was now falling upon the hill formations to the West. Quickly I scrambled to find a good foreground to compliment the rocks and then just seconds after capturing this picture the sun disappeared again not to be seen again for another hour.

Sometimes that’s just how fleeting the highlights in our life can be. One moment everything is aglow and then the next moment things fall into the shadows again.  But that’s okay, because it’s the rarity of such moments that make them all the more special.  And sure enough, the sun will come out again, we just have to be patient enough to wait for it.

A Personal Touch

I only had a couple more hours to explore before I needed to head West. There was a family gathering, at my sister’s place and I didn’t want to miss it.  With the remainder of my time I thought I should check out the Painted Hills. Each time I had been there in the past was during sunset time. No doubt it would look different during the middle of the day, and perhaps the clouds would be kind enough to open up once more for me.

On my way there I pulled into the little town of Mitchell. Filled up on gasoline and then walked across the road to pick up some snack items at a very historic looking general store.

Sitting on the front porch was an old cowboy strumming something like a Woody Guthrie folk melody, and also singing along, as though the song were his own. There was another gentleman about my age sitting on the other side of the porch, just sipping his coffee and enjoying the music.  I could see there were a couple of people looking around in the store and others walking down the sidewalk, but nobody seemed to be moving with hurry or intention, just moseying along.

The cowboy was finishing his tune just as I stepped onto the porch, and we were able to exchange hellos, as well as with the other man enjoying his coffee. Looking at the cowboy’s guitar I noticed a sizable hole in the place where many guitars have a protective plastic strum plate. This was clearly a well-used instrument and I inquired with the cowboy about how long he’d been playing it. He told me he got it at the age of 23 and had been playing it now for 60 years.  “That’s so amazing”, I said. “Would you mind if I took a  picture of you playing?”. “I don’t mind”, He replied, and then begin to tell me about the song he was just playing. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the name of it, but he said the song was also about 60 years old too. “I bet a lot of people are glad you’re still playing it”, I said. He nodded and began to strum another tune.

I think this is what Jesus meant, when he told his disciples that the application of spiritual principles, is like a master who brings out the best that he has to share, both new and old, with others.  This too is what I am trying to do with my photography, and other useful tools that the Lord has given me.  I just pray that I would be as much of a blessing to others as this old cowboy apparently is in his little community.

Stepping through the mercantile door felt like stepping back in time even further.  Although the items on the shelves looked modern, their arrangement and all of the surrounding decor felt undisturbed from many eras ago. The rustic wood floors, coved wood moldings and elk heads installed throughout particularly dated the place, and I felt grateful to have come here and discovered something in our world that is not pulled under by the influence of modernity.

Earlier in the morning I had pulled into the town of Dayville where they had an even more rustic general store, with far less inventory. I had stopped merely to see if they had a USB cable I could buy, since I had left mine at home. They did not but the young man at the counter said, “Hey, I’ve got an extra one here you can have here.” “That’s alright, man.” I said, “I don’t want to take your cord, you might need it.’ “No No,Take it!” he insisted. He wouldn’t even take any money for it, so of course I felt I needed to purchase something just to show my appreciation. The young man then asked where I was going and what I had seen, and then suggested a couple places to check out. I was so impressed with how friendly he was, and left feeling truly blessed to have made his acquaintance.

The small town vibe was really growing on me, but I had to keep moving.

Driving into the Painted Hills area I began to see more traffic than I had experienced the whole trip. Clearly this was the popular spot and there was no mystery as to why. The layers of clay and silt stone that separate out into colorful patterns are among the most unusual and dramatic large scale phenomena one is likely to see.

I was impressed that this very unique and fragile environment has been able to be preserved so well, even with farming directly adjacent to it, and with so many tourist trekking through too.

There are trails to explore in the area and I really wanted to check them out but I didn’t have much time before I needed to head home, so I just pulled over when a composition caught my eye. In places like this you don’t have to work very hard to see some pretty spectacular sights.

Possibly the most meaningful thing that happened at this place though was getting to help a foreign couple, who could only speak a little bit of English get a nice portrait with the hills in the background. On a journey through time, particularly an expeditated one, its not the places that you remember most, even if they are very beautiful places, it the sharing of them with whoever happens to be around. Sometimes that someone is fellow travelers, sometimes its local folks, and sometimes is God Himself, timing things just so that the perfection of a moment is clearly beyond mere happenstance.

Driving through Prineville on my way home, I enjoyed one last personal encounter, a friendly green dinosaur at the Sinclair gas station. Even if he wasn’t the real thing a company that places a plastic dinosaur, made of fossil fuels, in front of a modern gas station deserves more attention. This life is too short not to remember our past, and recognise how blessed we are because of it.