Earlier this year, I headed out to capture the sunrise at nearby Red Rock Canyon. I knew a storm front was moving in, and after hiking to reach this spot, it looked as though it might be a day without photos. Right at sunrise, the sun peeked through a tiny slice of an opening in the clouds. This lasted for about a minute, and the not-so-distant cliffs in the background (which I had hoped to capture that morning) never fully saw the sun.
This week’s Daily Post Challenge of Rounded made me think of a river bottom full of smooth rocks. Perhaps that’s because many river bottoms in the desert don’t have rivers in them. Water’s erosive power works on larger boulders, too, and that’s where I searched through my files. These rounded boulders are in southwestern Arizona, in a place called Texas Canyon.
When I saw the title for this week’s photo challenge, I immediately thought of some of the canyons I’ve visited. The canyons of the southwestern US are great places to hike because there is often shade. Because of the shade, light reaching the bottom is often reflected off higher sunlit walls, resulting in a warm glow. In those canyons where water is present, the effect is magnified.
My photo comes from Zion National Park, Utah. As sunrise lit up the high cliffs on a morning with clear blue skies, the North Fork of the Virgin River glowed from the light being cast onto it.
Last winter/spring was one of the wettest that California has ever seen, and was declared a drought-buster by several accounts. Now, about a half year later, we have seen the most devastating fires to ever hit that state. What happened to all that water? Did the drought really go away?
Intense, out-of-control fires have occurred in places that you would not normally expect these to take place. Oregon, Montana, western Canada, and now Portugal have all been in the news for their fires this year. A reasonable person would have to look at this situation and wonder if there is something we can do for long-term fire prevention. The White House says global warming and climate change is a hoax. More FAKE NEWS!
My photo is from several years ago, and is one of my favorites from a springtime trip in what used to be a normal weather year. I know fires have threatened Yosemite National Park in recent years, and I can’t help but wonder if the next one is the one that leaves the park in ashes.
This is my contribution to Leanne Cole’s Monochrome Madness this week. To see what other photographers have contributed, or instructions to join in, please visit her website.
On my first trip to the big island of Hawaii, we had lucky timing with the volcanic activity. The day before I took this photo, a lava tube broke, and all the lava was now running over the hillside instead of underneath it. I wanted badly to get closer to this spectacle, but the viewing area was roped off, and there was a security patrol to make sure nobody went where they weren’t supposed to go. Or so I thought. The viewing area closed at 10 pm, and at 9:55, three men came walking from the other side of the rope and in plain sight of the guards. None were wearing ranger uniforms, or showing anything indicating authority. I remember thinking “Who are they, and how the hell were they allowed out there?” I couldn’t make it back on this trip, so my thoughts of trying to figure out how to get past the rope were not going to make a difference anyway.
What you are looking at is not the source of the eruption. There was so much lava coming down, that this was where it met the ocean, causing it to shoot up in the air 300-400 feet. It was really hard to fathom the size of this event, and it wasn’t until I looked at the images blown up on the computer screen, that I saw that those men were in a couple of the frames providing a sense of scale.
I love this time of year when the air gets cooler and the leaves change color. Occasionally, cold fronts come through with a little moisture, and hopefully, not much wind. That was the case for this photo from the San Francisco Peaks, near Flagstaff, Arizona taken a couple years ago.
This is my contribution to Leanne Cole’s Monochrome Madness this week. To see what other photographers have contributed, or instructions to join in, please visit her website.
You won’t find any covered bridges in the desert, so this is as close as you’ll get to one. On a lonely road somewhere west of Phoenix, I discovered this bridge. It had such incredible oxidation taking place, that I couldn’t resist taking a few photos. In order to maintain a vintage feel, I didn’t convert it to b&w, but desaturated the original to the point that you see.
This is my contribution to Leanne Cole’s Monochrome Madness this week. Instructions on how to participate, and the contributions of others can be found on her website.
When I schedule my flights, I try to arrange them so that I’m taking photos near sunrise or sunset. The colors are more saturated, and the shadows of even the smallest features become elongated. For this week’s challenge of shadow, I immediately thought of being up in the skies looking down, and my photo comes from somewhere northwest of Las Vegas.
When I first started venturing out on photographic journeys, I felt solitude almost immediately upon leaving the city. Unless it was a holiday weekend. Nowadays, finding a quiet space seems a little more difficult, but not impossible. There are still places where I can hear the pulsing of a hawk’s wings, or a lizard moving upon the sands, or just plain silence.
A 2000 pound animal graceful? Are you kidding?
There are 2 places in Arizona where you can find buffalo. One of them, House Rock Valley Ranch, has no fences. The Grand Canyon, Kaibab Plateau, and Vermillion Cliffs all form a natural perimeter. With that much land to cover, don’t expect coming here for animal sightings.
On my first visit to House Rock Valley, I had my brother and his daughter along. She got excited when she saw the sign about the buffalo ranch, but we let her know about the vastness of the property so her hopes were not too high. We drove many miles out to where we set up camp overlooking Marble Canyon, then drove back slightly for another overlook. When we came across a road junction which we had crossed not more than an hour before, there were 5 buffalo standing in the road. Collectively, they easily outweighed my vehicle, so we just sat and watched. After a minute or so, they got bored with the standoff, and started to move along the side of the road. We drove slowly beside them, and then they picked up their pace. We matched them. They continued to pick up their pace, at which point I noticed we were driving 35mph. We were on a fairly smooth road, they weren’t! After about a minute of running with the herd, they peeled away until we lost sight of them.
A few years later I returned to House Rock Valley. This time was specifically to cover the buffalo, and unfortunately, it was hunting season. The herd’s numbers are maintained, and only a handful of permits are issued each year. These buffalo know when it’s hunting season, and become scarce. Rising from the valley at about a 45 degree angle, the Kaibab Plateau has some twisting, sheer walled canyons. The buffalo traverse these canyons like bighorn sheep, and the hunters can’t follow. I met with the manager of the ranch, and he was full of information about these animals. One story he relayed was about the animals’ ability to leave no trace. There are no reliable water sources here, so they have placed water tanks about in several spots. In hunting season, the buffalo will enter from one side, then step on a rock or clump of grass, get their drink, walk around to the other side of the tank, all the while being selective as to where they step, and not leave a track within ten feet. Is it any wonder these animals were so revered by Native Americans?
For this week’s Daily Post Challenge of Ambience, I tried to think of one place that captures the mood of the southwestern deserts. Monument Valley, in the heart of the Navajo Indian Reservation, tops my list. As with any location that is highly visited, there is the tackiness that comes with tourism. But spend a day in this valley, and seek out moments of solitude. If you happen to be here when the rains come through, you might be rewarded with sunsets like this.
The South Rim of the Grand Canyon can be miserably hot in the early parts of summer, so many people find it surprising how miserably cold it can be in winter. As with many canyons of the southwest, snow doesn’t stick to the sheer walls, so the layers are accentuated by the snow. Even in relatively flat light, this adds depth to the scene. Photos taken when winter storms are in the clearing process are some of the most dramatic I’ve ever seen of the canyon, and the temps are usually tolerable at that point. Watch out for the days following, when wind chill factors can make it feel like Canada.
This is my contribution to Leanne Cole’s Monochrome Madness this week. Instructions on how to participate, and the contributions of others can be found on her website.
Steve Bruno Photo 
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