Tiger Canyon Trail

A September sketching adventure outside Walla Walla, WA

Over Saturday and Sunday, I went exploring up what is called “Tiger Canyon.” Despite much sleuthing, I have been unable to find any history behind the name and can only guess it may have had something to do with sightings of mountain lion (which are known to prowl the Blue Mountains region of southeastern Washington).

Lions aside, I admit to being a little concerned about finding good sketching subjects when we discovered that Tiger Creek — the waterway which runs down the canyon — was non-existent, no doubt to soaring temperatures over August. And certainly, the forest was showing the lateness of the season; yellowed leaves were sprinkled throughout the canopy and dry wild grasses rustled as we passed by.

Even the Bracken fern looked fairly wilty. It was a far cry from the verdant and lush forest I remember from May 2022.

And yet, beauty prevailed.

"Pearly Everlasting" and, my youngest inspecting an insect in the dry creekbed.

I found snowbrush laden with berries (for the eyes only, they’ll put you 6ft under in a hurry), saskatoons¹, wild strawberries, and a surprising number of resilient wildflowers. Pearly Everlasting has become a new favorite, with its’ delicate white sprays and petal structure similar to its’ Asteraceae cousin, the Bachelor Button.

I was even delighted to find a robust stand of Western Sword Fern², proudly defying the seasonal drought.

Red-belted conk, and some wild strawberry leaves which are already preparing for Autumn.

Normally, when focusing on botanical illustration, the temptation is to focus on plants during the height of their growth cycle: flowers in full bloom, fruit-bearing plants in the fullness of their bearing season, and so on. But there is a venerable kind of beauty in plants that are preparing for dormancy. It’s the poignancy of lived experience and surrender to the dance of Life. The book of Ecclesiastes tells us,

To everything there is a season,
and a time for every purpose under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot….

(verses 3:1-2)

And how momentous it is to stand and hold space as witness the changes. To pause in our 21st century hustle and truly notice in that moment of stillness, something many would disregard. To honor the hand of the Creator through intentionally contemplating His work, and in turn, preserve that fleeting artistry on the page… along with the innocent wonder that accompanies it.

What a great privilege to be an artist in this incredible world He created.

You’re invited to tag along with me (and my children) on this sketching adventure into the forest: the video above is just shy of 4 minutes, and features my geeking out about plants and talking about my artistic process, with the occasional raucous kid noises in the background.

1. My expat Canadian grandmother never used the American term “service berry,” preferring her more colorful German-Albertan jargon. That’s also why I wear a “tooke” in the winter, and pronounce the watercolor “Alizarin Crimson” as “Ah-lih-ZAHRE-in” rather than “Uh-LIZ-uh-rin.”

2.