Lovely layers in the distance on a hike at Runyon Canyon this morning, looking North East. There’s breadth and depth here. You have the Hollywood sign on the left, all the way over to the Griffith Observatory on the right. You’ve got the near ridge of part of Runyon Canyon in the foreground, and then bits of Mount Lee (with the sign, more left) and Mount Hollywood (more right) constituting Griffith Park the next ridge over. Then you’ve got the San Gabriels in the background with a dusting of snow (not as much as last week, unfortunately), and in between a fantastic cotton-wool bank of cloud (presumably over Glendale, Atwater Village, Eagle Rock, Pasadena, and so forth) over part of the valley, heralding the rainstorms to come tomorrow. Don’t be deceived, this is not some remote location. The thick of the city is a five to ten minute scramble down the slope behind me.
Lovely start to the day.
-cvj
You just made my homesickness worse!!! Man, I miss home.
When I see layers presented in such a scene I can feel quite relaxed. Yet I also see something that describes the scientific methodology of thinking.
I keep telling those that are clueless about science that those of us who are involved do not really thinking deeply as they can suggest at times. In fact, we think in thin, shallow layers, peeling back one at a time to check the properties that each layer of puzzlement has to see how it fits with the layers we understand. We become involved with those layers when we conduct experiments and those experiments are layered as well as we make lists of things to organize and place them in a controlled risk environment.The result may or may not work out. We can add layers of risk if things do work or we can reexamine the layers we have arranged in the experiment. We may even accept that we have reached a dead end but then we peel back another layer we overlooked that says why.
After all that we can look at the landscape and watch the distance spread its face, inviting us as ocean waves do when they rush toward our feet on shore and then recede. Out there the horizon looks like a place where one can get lost. But lost is where new places are. Lost is where discovery lies. Lost is where we find our friends.
Beautiful photo, lovely landscape. I envy your access.
Nice.