Tucked away on the southern border of Arizona and Mexico, Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument is one of the least visited units of the National Park system. Yet this relatively small park has a wealth of subject matter for great photography.

It’s named for the stately succulents that are prominent south of the border, but can only found in this remote section of the United States. While not as iconic (or photographed) as the more prevalent saguaro, the organ pipe cactus has a graceful profile that photographs well against the expansive southwest skies and it’s rocky habitat.

Spring is an excellent time to visit with vibrant wildflower displays including poppy and brittlebush, and the occasional lightning storm that can provide a dramatic evening of entertainment and image making.

Evening light on tufa towers at the south shore, Mono Lake, California

The Mono Lake Tufa State Natural Reserve, which was established in 1982, is one of 70 parks, historic buildings and monuments that California State Park officials plan to close by the end of June 2012 due to budget restraints. The famous south shore tufa will still be accessible (as will the rest of the lake), but the visitor center and information kiosks will likely close and with them a valuable educational resource that has helped keep Mono Lake alive.

Since the early part of the 20th century, the water rights along the eastern Sierra Nevada mountains have been hotly contested with the construction of the Los Angeles aqueduct. The classic story of how Mulholland bought up the ranch lands of the Owen’s Valley to build his dream and bring water to the desert of Southern California is well-documented in the movie Chinatown, and the subsequent LA Department of Water and Power has been in court many times over the years as a result.

Mono Lake has no outlet and its proximity near the start of the LA aqueduct makes it critically dependent on the naturally flowing streams that feed into it from the nearby Sierra. Its highly saline waters are a perfect breeding ground for brine shrimp, which in turn are the staple diet for over 2,000,000 migratory birds that visit the lake each year (including the second largest nesting population of California gulls in the US).

Fortunately we’ve had a couple of very wet winters and Mono Lake is receiving the water it needs for now. But with the growing demand of a rapidly expanding and thirsty west, its future remains uncertain.

Petrified log sections on Blue Mesa, Petrified Forest National Park, Arizona

It’s hard to imagine that the vast desert that surrounds you as you whisk along Interstate 40 in Arizona was once a primordial swamp. During the Late Triassic period, about 225 million years ago, this area was a lush forest that was home to many large amphibians and early dinosaurs. The colorful Chinle Formation, which gives the Painted Desert its warm hues, also contains the sediments that have preserved the fossil trees, plants and animals of this ancient time.

At the center of this lunar landscape lies Petrified Forest National Park, which was set aside in 1962 to preserve the unique remains of this otherworldly place. In addition to its colorful badlands and fossil remains, the park also contains more than 600 archaeological sites, including petroglyphs and pit houses from some of its earliest pueblo inhabitants.

June 8th is World Oceans Day – a chance to celebrate the bodies of water that make up 70% of our planet and provide us with food, recreation and place to rejuvenate the spirit. As home to an estimated 230,000 marine species, our oceans are a vast wilderness with ecosystems critically linked with our own. Unfortunately many of the earth’s inhabitants never see or experience our oceans, yet our impact through pollution and over-fishing has taken its toll.

Organizations such as the The Ocean Project provide a great opportunity to get directly involved in protecting the future of our oceans through personal and community involvement. Working with zoos, aquariums, and conservation groups, they sponsor beach cleanups, educational programs, art contests, film festivals, sustainable seafood events, and other activities which help to raise consciousness of how our lives depend on the oceans and what we can do to keep them healthy long into the future.

Barrel Cactus in bloom, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, California

Spring in the desert is a land of contrasts. Normally barren fields and rocky hillsides, washed clean from winter rains, take on a new dimension as wildflowers begin to dot the landscape and succulents explode in a kaleidoscope of color. Here a spiny barrel cactus displays its delicate flowers on Yaqui Pass in Anza-Borrego State Park.  Though the vibrant show attracts wildlife and photographers alike, the sharp needle-like spines are a constant reminder to look but don’t touch.

Spooky Gulch, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, Utah

One of the largest yet least explored parks in the country, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument is a vast desert landscape of mesas, slot canyons, petrified sand dunes, archaeological treasures and American history. Divided by a single long ridge called the Kaiparowits Plateau, this remote region was the last place in the continental United States to be mapped and is a wonderful destination to find that desert solitude that Edward Abbey so passionately wrote about.

From the south, the Vermilion, White, Gray, and Pink cliffs rise to form the giant multi-hued terraces of the Grand Staircase. And to the east the Escalante Canyons are a labyrinth of geologic wonders slowly winding their way down to Lake Powell. Together these escarpments expose 200 million years of the earth’s history in a visual feast for the eyes, and contain the most continuous record of Late Cretaceous terrestrial life in the world.

For the photographer, the Grand-Staircase Escalante National Monument is a sublime location where the posibilities are endless and the light, which seems to glow from within, is worthy most anytime of day. I’ve often said you could spend your whole life in southern Utah and not see it all, but that might just be true of this very special park. The temptation to try is always present.

Madame Pele has re-awakened on the the Big Island of Hawaii this week. The floor of the Pu‘u ‘O‘o crater in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park collapsed and a fissure opened up on the flanks of Kilauea sending lava high into the air. For more than a quarter century the goddess of fire has let her temperament be known on this island creating one of the most active volcanoes in the world, and once again she is feeling uneasy.

This image taken a few years ago of the lava flowing into the Pacific Ocean at night shows the raw force of fire and water combining to form new land. It is an incredible spectacle to witness and one of the most challenging subjects I have ever photographed. Walking across miles of a’a lava fields (the sharp brittle variety) in the dark and carefully setting up a tripod on a newly formed shelf above the sea is a stark contrast to shooting the lush forests and beautiful beaches on the opposite side of this same island. But the experience is intoxicating and Madame Pele’s pull will keep me coming back again and again.

Ancient Bristlecone pines in the Patriarch Grove, White Mountains, California

California is a land of superlatives and nowhere is this more pronounced than along the eastern escarpment of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. From the lofty summit of Mount Whitney at nearly 15,000 feet (the highest point in the lower 48)  to the barren plain of Badwater in Death Valley at 282 feet below sea level is a distance of just over 100 miles. The Owens Valley which lies between them is the deepest chasm in North America, and to the east on the barren upper slopes of the White Mountains the oldest living trees on earth cling to life in this other-worldly landscape.

The transition from summer to fall can be a sudden explosion of color or a subtle change in hues depending on how quickly the temperature drops as the autumnal equinox approaches. Equally dramatic is the first snowfall signaling the coming of winter. It might be a light dusting on leaves and branches adding a new dimension to the autumn landscape, or a large storm that blankets the slopes at higher elevations in stark contrast to the bold colors below. This image from the San Juan Mountains in Colorado exemplifies the later and is a prime example of seasons competing for attention – and for the photographer’s eye.

I consider this more of a public service announcement than anything (insert wink here).

On the mainland the season is finally in full swing with brightly colored leaves, a crisp change in the air, and perhaps even a touch of snow at the higher elevations. But things in our 50th state haven’t changed much at all since last season, or the season before – in fact, they haven’t changed much in years. The temperature is still a constant 82 degrees, with light trade winds gently blowing the coconut palms. Dolphin frolic close to shore and the golden sun sets into the azure sea most every evening.

So while we’re all excited about the new look in the rest of the country, let’s not forget some things (and places) never change. And in the case of Hawaii, that’s just fine!