Secular

Two generations of oak trees, both far older than me and one far older than my grandparents, stand proud in the low land fields.
Duas gerações de carvalhos-alvarinhos, ambos bem mais velhos que eu próprio e um mais antigo que os meus avós, permanecem orgulhosos nos campos sob as montanhas.

Pedunculate oak / Carvalho-alvarinho  – Quercus robur

Serra da Cabreira, Portugal
2016, Novembro

A pallet of colors

An abstract impression of the woods in their autumn’s colours.
Uma impressão abstracta das cores de Outono nos bosques.

Serra da Cabreira, Portugal
2016, Novembro

Life wasted

While keeping this blog as a photographic journal, the main purpose of it is to celebrate life, in its most natural form. But I can also use it to raise awareness on how fragile life can be. I had caught a glimpse of a wolf in its natural habitat before. However, I never had the privilege of actually looking at one. I never though this first experience would be so dramatic and filled with this dreary felling of loss. While trekking with some friends in the magnificent Cabreira Mountains, one of us stumbled upon a carcass of a young and magnificent wolf. No wounds, no signs of starvation, just a life that stood still and started to decay. We all reached a more obvious hypothesis of poisoning. This is a forbidden but a common and very devastating practice of local people that disregard wildlife in determinant of their cattle (sometimes, just irrational fear and inherited cultural myths).
The beauty of this young wolf strikes me, even beyond its death. Its dense fur with its shades of brown colours, the massive size of its paws and length of its legs, the perfect form of its ears and its pointy nose, the long tail… Only the eyes, already distant in another world seemed wrong in the moment. This young’s wolf life is now wasted, stolen in some cruel and indifferent act of men.
Cultural habits, ignorance and the total disrespect for what truly brings value to this woods and mountains must change. And this change must occur before such value is lost… forever.

Enquanto mantenho este blog como um diário fotográfico, o seu maior propósito é celebrar a vida na sua forma mais natural. Mas também posso-o usar para gerar atenção para o quão frágil a vida pode ser. Eu já tinha visto um lobo, antes, de relance, no seu habitat natural. No entanto, nunca tinha tido o privilégio de poder olhar para um. Nunca pensei que esta primeira experiência pudesse ser tão dramática e preenchida de um tremendo sentimento de perda. Enquanto caminhava com uns amigos pela Serra da Cabreira, um de nós encontrou uma carcaça de um jovem lobo. Sem qualquer ferimento ou sinais de fome, apenas uma vida que parou ali e começou a decair. Todos chegámos à mais óbvia hipótese de um caso de envenenamento. Uma prática proibida mas comum e absolutamente devastadora por parte de populações locais que desrespeitam a vida selvagem em detrimento do seu gado (ou, às vezes, apenas por medos irracionais e mitos culturais herdados).
A beleza deste jovem lobo atingiu-me, mesmo além da sua morte. O seu pêlo denso, com os tons de terra, o tamanho maciço das suas patas, a forma perfeita das suas orelhas e um nariz pontiagudo, a longa cauda… Só os olhos, já distantes e num qualquer outro mundo, pareciam errados no momento. Esta jovem vida está agora desperdiçada, roubada num qualquer cruel e indiferente acto de homens.
Os hábitos culturais, a ignorância e o total desrespeito por aquilo que verdadeiramente traz valor às florestas e montanhas têm de mudar. E esta mudança tem de ocorrer antes que este valor esteja perdido… para sempre.

 Iberian wolf, lobo-ibérico – Canis lupus signatus

Serra da Cabreira, Portugal
2016, Novembro

Mushroom’s everywhere

In this Minho’s region, and for this time of year, the variety of fungi species that populate moss and leaves filled grounds is tremendous.
Nesta região do Minho, e por esta altura do ano, há uma variedade tremenda de fungos a popular o solo coberto de musgos e folhas. Além de agárico-campestre, outros nomes populares para estes cogumelos são cacavinas, Cogumelo-das-burras, Febras, Seto-dos-lameiros.

Meadow mushroom, agárico-campestre (PT) – Agaricus campestres

Note: I may have mistaken it with the toxic Agaricus bresadolanus. Not only the mushrooms are still very small, only removing them from the ground and observing its buried base could allow a better identification.
Nota: Posso ter confundido este agárico comestível com a espécie tóxica Agaricus bresadolanus. Não só ainda são muito pequenos como apenas a remoção destes do solo e a observação da base poderia complementar a identificação

Vieira do Minho, Portugal
2016, Outubro

Lullaby

So… first, for the appropriate soundtrack for this moment, click here. Secondly, I have seemed to have disturbed a friendly wolf-spider in its most natural environment: my bed!

Para uma banda sonora apropriada a este momento, clicar aqui. E, aparentemente, importunei uma amigável aranha-lobo no seu ambiente mais natural: a minha cama!

Wolf-spider, Aranha-lobo-radiada (PT) – Hogna Radiata

Vieira do Minho, Portugal
2016, Outubro

Autumn’s colors

With the end of Summer and first Autumn’s rains, colors change. Fallen leaves fill the landscape in a palette shifting from golden oranges to darker browns. In the wet and shadier grounds, fungi appear with their mysterious shapes and tones. Here, a Boletus edulis (porcini / penny bun) emerges through the fallen chestnuts. Interestingly, this large and edible mushroom attracts all sorts of insects, which seem to feast hastily on its meaty flesh.

Com o fim do Verão e as primeiras chuvas de Outono, as cores mudam. As folhas caídas enchem a paisagem numa palete variando dos laranjas dourados aos castanhos-escuros. No chão húmido e sob as sombras, fungos aparecem com os seus tons e formas misteriosos. Aqui, um Boletus edulis (Míscaro) emerge entre as castanhas caídas. Este cogumelo de grandes dimensões atrai todo o tipo de insectos que aparentam banquetear-se com a sua carne.
Não deixo de achar curioso a imensa e curiosa diversidade para os vários nomes comuns dados a esta espécie: Boleto, Bolo podre, Cabeçudo, Cepa, Cepe, Fedorento, Gordo, Míscaro, Moncoso, Níscaro, Níscarro, Pãozinho de centavo, Pé gordo, Tartulho, Tortulho.

Boletus edulis, Castanea sativa (and a fly…).

Vieira do Minho, Portugal
2016, Outubro

Where there’s smoke…

…there’s Euros!

Multiple (not so wild) fires have spread throughout in the Northern region of Portugal. The Minho region, including Portugal’s only National Park, PNPG, have been particularly impacted. While many scorched areas are mainly agricultural eucalyptus and pine trees, patches of old forests and high altitude vegetation, with their precious autochthonous species, have been devastated.

The causes of these fires are well-known but badly fought. Portugal has 10x the number of fires per inhabitant than other Mediterranean (and similar weather) countries. It is assumed than over 90% of fires are of human causes: from the negligent tossing the cigarette to the madman pyromaniac (as it was in Madeira Island). However, somewhere in the middle, there is a crazy economical loop that feeds on fires as these feed on dried grasses. Poor politics (or bad politicians) have their consequences: ineffective legislation, insufficient forest surveillance, poor investigation resources and stalled justice. All these serve as basis for lot of “business as usual” from the wood, paper and even farming industry. Unlike any other country, even the Portuguese Air Force has been set aside and somewhat “grounded”, in favour of privatized air-fighting means. True Portuguese business innovation right there. A context only permitted by a willful ignorance from an entire nation, only disrupted by the typical August journalistic coverage of wildfires. Here, the gain of few is the economic loss of an entire nation; spreading from burnt property, to the destruction of sustainable means of those that live directly from the land, and even from all Nature related touristic activities. Oh, and ultimately, the sheer loss of life.

While trying to have some form of vacations in the Western region of PNPG, I found a surviving patch of old wood in the middle of a fire that now extends to 5000ha. The smoke curtain that falls upon it hints how deeply its surroundings have become scorched earth. As the photograph is two days old, and the fire still remains active as today, the saddest part is… I don’t even know if this small forest still remains alive.

Mezio, PNPG, Portugal

2016, August

Rio Rabagão

“Water dropping day by day wears the hardest rock away.” The stone mountains of Cabreira are carved by the passing flow of Rabagão River in its flow to the larger Cávado River. Although its flow is under control by dams, sometimes, this single waterfall becomes a monstrous mass of water flooding the valley. It seems I’ll have to return here in heavy rainy days…

“Água mole em pedra dura, tanto bate até que fura.” As montanhas rochosas da Cabreira são esculpidas pelas correntes do Rio Rabagão, antes de este desaguar no Rio Cávado. O caudal dele está agora controlado por barragens mas, por vezes, esta singular cascata transforma-se numa monstruosa massa de água, enchendo todo o vale. Parece que terei de voltar aqui em dias mais chuvosos…

Vieira do Minho, Portugal
2015, Abril

Ponte de Mizarela / Ponte de Misarela

Locally called Devil’s bridge, Mizarela’s (or Misarela) is a stone bridge erected, possibly by romans, in the early Middle Age over river Rabagão. Although I do focus this blog (and most of my photography) in natural themes, this architectural work seems to merge with the landscape quite seamlessly.

Localmente chamada de Ponte do Diabo, a Ponte de Mizarela (ou Misarela) é uma estrutura de pedra erigida, possivelmente pelos romanos, no início da Idade Média sobre o Rio Rabagão. Embora eu foque este blogue (e a maioria da minha fotografia) em temas naturais, esta obra arquitectónica funde-se perfeitamente com a paisagem.

Vieira do Minho, Portugal
2015, Abril

Water cycle / Ciclo da água

I was in this path in the summer and noticed a large amount of dried up affluent streams that led to a small river in the valley, tributary to Ave River. I made up my mind in returning there in the winter. Water was flowing everywhere. Every little bit of hill side was drenched in water and small waterfalls emerged from the rocks. And the sounds… water everywhere!

Estive neste trilho no Verão e reparei numa grande quantidade de escoadouros secos que iam desaguar num pequeno rio no vale, afluente do Rio Ave. Fiquei determinado em regressar lá no Inverno. A água escorria por todo o lado. Todas e quaisquer encostas estavam encharcadas e pequenas cascatas emergiam das rochas. E os sons… água por todo o lado!

 

Vieira do Minho, Portugal

2014, Dezembro