Nature that left you feeling awed

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

Many years ago (maybe 1986?), my roommates and I lived in a little run-down cabin on the edge of Pushaw Lake near Bangor, Maine (USA)… 'round about April or so, the ice on the lake was thawing. I woke up one morning with nothing to do that day (I don’t recall why; but I had no work, no classes, no nothing! Blessed unbusiness!!) I woke up, the roommates were already gone for the day, so I was alone… I sat up, and looked out the window to the lake (maybe 10 or 15 feet away). I noticed that the coming spring had melted the ice on the lake until there were bare patches everywhere, and what was NOT bare was covered by a thin layer of ice…

I went to get coffee, and came back. By now, the wind had kicked up… blowing across the lake directly towards my window. I sat and drank coffee, smoked, and watched the lake…

Over the space of several hours, the wind kicked up small waves, which broke up the remaining ice on the lake. It then pushed the ice up onto shore in front of me… slowly, all of the ice on the lake was deposited on the beach in front of me!

After several hours, the lake was free of ice for the year, and the beach in front on me was lined with a pile of small ice shards, piled about 2 feet deep, just at the edge of the water. The pile of ice shards melted within an hour or so, and was gone… the lake was free!

That was, without question, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And I know, somehow, that no one else will ever really understand…:frowning:

When my roommates came home later that day, they asked “What did you do today?” and I couldn’t find words… so I just said, “Nothin’”

22

Snorkeling in the Gulf of Mexico with two manta rays that were damn near 20 feet across from wingtip to wingtip. They just kept circling around, gliding like a pair of great birds. Slowly, they started to circle down, down, down and finally disappeared into the dark. That was a wonderful experience.

23

Driving (being driven actually, I can’t drive) accross the Nullabor plain. Stopped for the night at a motel halfway accross. Got up earlyish in the morning before anyone else and walked to the edge of the motel and faced away from it.

Two things could be seen: the cloudless blue sky, and browny-reddy-dotted-with-dull-green landscape. It was literally table flat in all directions all the way to the horizon. Nothing marred it. And it was absolutely silent.

24

Things that made me aware that there are more things on Heaven and Earth…

  1. Looking at pictures of spiral galaxies, then brushing my teeth, and looking down into the drain…

  2. Sitting in my backyard in the Blue Ridge, not doing much of anything. I look up and out of the woods comes a bear. He ambled through the yard while we locked eyes. He left. I stayed.

  3. Anytime I hear a mockingbird sing.

  4. Realizing, through a web cam, that it truly is day in Australia when it’s night here.

  5. Chemistry. When I realized that my blood is altered sea water. And my bones were once parts of stars. (Rush quote: “I am made from the dust of the stars, and the oceans flow in my veins”)

25

I saw Niagra Falls once. It was WAY better than seeing it on TV.

26

About 18 or 20 years ago, I went cross-country skiing during a blizzard behind my dad’s house in Traverse City, Michigan, USA. I went down into a little valley along Brewery Creek. The valley walls cut off all wind and noise from the outside world, so all I saw was big fluffy flakes drifting down everywhere, and the only sound was my own breathing and my skis on the snow. I spent an hour or two, and never got more than maybe 1/4 mile from the house, as the crow flies. But I was lightyears away, as the spirit soars…

About 3 years ago, I went scuba diving in Cozumel with a group of friends. The tour organizer is a scuba instructor, and many of the group were his students. We did the open water checkout dive for them right in front of our hotel. I’ve been diving for years, but this was one of my first dives in the caribbean. The first sight underwater there was a cloud of neon-colored tropical fish - orange, silver, blue, green, red, yellow… and then there were 2 barracuda, just hanging out on the reef, about 50 feet away.

The last dive of this trip, my buddy ran low on air long before I did. I followed him back to the boat, got him out of the water and squared away, and I went back down. I more or less followed the group, but having no buddy to watch, I was free to swim where I wanted, see what I wanted to see, without having to watch someone else. Bliss…

On another diving trip, we were at the eastern end of Lake Superior, just west of Whitefish Point. As we started loading divers back into the boat, we could see a black line across the western horizon. There was a storm coming up. By the time we got everyone on board and gear stowed away, the storm was almost upon us. It and we were both going east, so the wind wasn’t really that terrible from our point of view, but the waves built to 8-10 feet in a hurry. It was strange and fun, as the boat climbed the back of one wave, crested over the top, and surfed down the front side into the trough, over and over again. I’m sure the skipper had a different view of the situation…

In a couple of months, my wife will leave Ralf Jr. and I for 2 weeks chasing tornadoes and thunderstorms. This trip has her a little scared, and a lot excited all at once. I hope to have some good pictures to pass along.

27

Few years back my brother and I went to visit Aunt & Uncle in Sacramento, CA. They took us to Yosemite for a day. In and of itself Yosemite is an awesome work of nature. Then we encountered one of its native denizens.

We were walking along a paved trail/bike path when there before us we saw a rattlesnake lying midway across the path. We stopped and observed it for several minutes, then two young boys came riding up on their bikes. “Whoa, COOL!” and began to chuck rocks at the snake. He quickly coiled up and let out a rattle. I took off down the path, thinking to myself that I was woefully under-equipped to be at the top of the food chain.

28

Many times!

  • Standing on an Alaskan glacier hearing nothing but the wind blowing over the ice crevices and an occassional cracking inside the ice. It makes you feel so small.

http://search.gallery.yahoo.com/search/corbis_id?p=cid%3A11539293

  • Looking down from the top of Bryce Canyon, Utah, then hiking through the narrow orange, yellow, red, and white cracks at sunset. The sinking sun shining through the colors of the sandstone makes everything glow. Literally takes your breath away the first time you see it. No way to describe and the photos do not pay it any justice, but here’s an idea of what it looks like.

http://www.travelwest.net/parks/brycecanyon/photogallery.html

  • Sitting down at the top of a landing after a days hike through Zions National Park. Tired, sweaty, but the smells, sights, and sounds more than make up for the hurting body.

http://www.americansouthwest.net/utah/zion/angels_landing.html

  • Hiking all day to the top of an Alaskan mountain peak to pitch a tent and look out onto this:

http://search.gallery.yahoo.com/search/corbis_id?p=cid%3A11401199

29

Many times!

  • Standing on an Alaskan glacier hearing nothing but the wind blowing over the ice crevices and an occassional cracking inside the ice. It makes you feel so small.

http://search.gallery.yahoo.com/search/corbis_id?p=cid%3A11539293

  • Looking down from the top of Bryce Canyon, Utah, then hiking through the narrow orange, yellow, red, and white cracks at sunset. The sinking sun shining through the colors of the sandstone makes everything glow. Literally takes your breath away the first time you see it. No way to describe and the photos do not pay it any justice, but here’s an idea of what it looks like.

http://www.travelwest.net/parks/brycecanyon/photogallery.html

  • Sitting down at the top of a landing after a days hike through Zions National Park. Tired, sweaty, but the smells, sights, and sounds more than make up for the hurting body.

http://www.americansouthwest.net/utah/zion/angels_landing.html

  • Hiking all day to the top of an Alaskan mountain peak to pitch a tent and look out onto this:

http://search.gallery.yahoo.com/search/corbis_id?p=cid%3A11401199

30

Standing on the ice cap near Thule, Greenland. I faced north and saw a vast expanse of craggy, broken ice gleaming like gems in the sun, and knew that there was nothing between me and the north pole but 700 miles of frigid air. Then I looked south…and saw life–a family of arctic hares crossing a snow field.

Canoeing down the Bougachitto River, and letting the current carry me through a slow stretch of water, under an arch of tree branches with early-morning sun shining through them. It was like a green cathedral.

Hiking through a forest in the Ozarks, the morning after an ice storm. When the sun rose above the mountains and struck the ice, it looked like some faerie city where all the inhabitants slept, and I had only wonder for company.

31

Diane:

I’ve camped in Bryce and hiked through Zion (and Dinosaur, and Arches). I have to agree with you – gorgeous country, and awesome, especially when you’re alone.

32

A couple of things come to mind. On the USS Constellation, in the Northern Arabian Sea not far from the cost of Oman, I was on the flight deck before morning ops and heard this strange popping noise. WTF? I looked around for a few minutes until I realized it was coming from the sea, hundreds of bottlenose dolphins jumping and playing in the wake of the ship, making the popping sound as thier bodies hit the water. I watched them for half an hour in awe of the beauty. Seeing flying fish for the first time was quite a novelty for this Arizona boy.
In the Phillippines at the old Subic Bay naval base there is an island in the mouth of the bay that the navy used as a refreation area. I went snorkling on the beach there and oddly I had the whole beach to myself that day. I spent a while playing with a lazy parrot fish that didn’t seem to be too motivated or didn’t see me as much of a threat. I’d chase him a bit and go up for a breath. Each time I came down he’d be in the same spot and I’d chase him some more. After the parrot fish left I saw a lion fish cruising on the bottom. I’d seen enough National Geographic specials to know “don’t touch” so I kept my distance. The foreign and strange always seems exotic to us. I grew up in a desert full of pointy/bitey/stingey/venomous things but this was something you only see on *TV and I was a few feet from it!

As I was enjoying the moment I realized I really needed to breath and looked up. I was about thirty feet down which isn’t particularly deep but remember I’m a desert boy, there isn’t water in the riverbeds unless it’s in the middle of monsoon season. “Wow” I thought, “It’s a long way to the air” as I kicked for the surface. I’d spent months at sea riding a thousand foot long hunk of iron but it wasn’t until that moment I appreciated the vastness of the ocean.

33

I’m going back many years here. Camp fire on the shore of Ennis Lake (Fountain Lake), the adults sitting around the fire. The lake had frozen solid and deep with no snow cover. Us kids were out ice skating, a little further out each time. It was quiet at that park years ago, and the lake is not small. Every time we went out farther, you heard a thunderous roar start by you, and fade to the other side of the lake. The ice cracking was so loud, you couldn’t hear anything else while the cracks went across the lake. The darkness came, and the moon and stars allowed us to keep skating the lake, with the loud cracking rolling across the lake. At first it was scary, but then became an emotional rush as the ice cracking continued to roar between the surrounding hills and echo back.

Summer was spent on the other side of the lake swimming.

34

[ul]
[li]Horseriding high up in the Drakensburg with nothing but flowers, grass and sheer, sheer drops.[/li]
[li]Higher up in the Drakensburg visiting champagne castle, a place as beautiful as the name suggests.[/li]
[li]Camping in the Drakensburg.[/li]
[li]The smell after that fierce summer thunderstorm, the kind where everyone races to close windows because of the fierce rain and sometimes hailstones, that ends as quickly as it came, leaving brilliant sunshine.[/li]
[li]Kruger National park, wild animals, and feeling as close to the animal kingdom as your ever likely to feel.[/li]
[li]Stopping to look down into God’s window, valley of a thousand hills, again as beautiful as the name suggests.[/ul][/li]And lots more.

Oh dear now I feel as homesick as hell. :eek:

35

Nature has left me in awe many times, even seeing the leaves coming out in spring leaves me in a state of wonder. I know that if you take the time to look then you will be perpetually wonderstruck. I will tell you about the one sight that never fails to make me appreciate nature.

We are located on one of the major migration paths for the snow goose. They often stop at our local resevoir to rest and gather their strength to continue their long journey south. There is nothing more awe inspiring then going out on a crisp, clear autumn weekend and going to look at the geese. The combination of the crystalline skies and the tang in the air that hints at the coming winter accentuates the effect. You come over a ridge and gaze over the resevoir and see in the distance what looks like a mass of white foam on the water. Slowly your eye resolves the mass of foam and you realize what had seemed at first to be a solid mass is a large group of cackling, feeding, preening snow geese. You take out your binoculars and focus on an individual and you see it lift its bill and honk to the sky. It may shake its tail feathers as it gets closer to the flock and you lose him in the mass of birds floating there. Suddenly, as if on command, the flock takes off from one edge flying into the sky like a mass of snowflakes caught on the wind and settles down again. What caused the flight, did they see a preditor, were they bored, it’s hard to say, but the sound reaches you after a few seconds, a sound made up of thousands of honks blending into one of natures finest cresendos. That is the moment I realize how amazing nature is and how much I truly appreciate it.

36

Cal - I agree! The last time I was in Bryce I took a short hike to the bottom alone. It’s so quiet and the landscape is so bizarre and surreal that it just leaves you with such a weird feeling.

The Grand Canyon is huge and impressive, but IMHO, it will never be as amazing as Bryce. It is just an awesome place (so is Zions, Arches, Canyonland, etc.) I feel very lucky to live within a days drive to all these areas.

37

For you city mice, check out my companion thread: Man-made landscapes that left you feeling awed.

38

Here’s a third vote for Bryce Canyon (genius runs in threes here, I guess). I saw it for the first time on Easter two years ago, after a snow storm, without crowds of people. We
went back after dinner and watched the colors change as the sun set - stunning.

Another vote for Ayers Rock - seen from the sky it is amazing, seen close up even more so.

Snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef - you are on this small patch of reef, and then you realize this thing runs for about 2000 kms. in length.

The Furka Pass in Switzerland - probably more scenic passes to be found, but it was pretty awesome.

I don’t know why, but when I saw Gibraltar in the distance I think I gasped out loud, very surreal looking.

Haleakala crater on Maui - wow.

39

I, being a good Saskatchewan boy (read: you don’t need a map, just get onto a chair), had never seen anything taller than say, 50 feet in nature. Well I was on a little trip over to Calgary, and we went through the foothills of some mountains, and they completely awed me. The people on the bus laughed about how pathetic they were compared to even the hills a mile on, but to me it was amazing.

40

Paradise Pool in Ontario’s Temagami region. About as romantic a place as you will ever find. A small waterfall into a pond with bottomess visibility. Small cliffs for diving. Secluded table rocks for sunning. Cedars and pines. Spend a full moon there with you partner, and you’ll never want to leave.