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.

The southwest desert of the Colorado Plateau is one of the most sought-after locations for landscape photographers in North America and rightly so. With a higher concentration of jaw dropping parks than anywhere else in the US, you could spend the rest of your life here and still not see all of its wonders.

But winter brings a special element as the first snows blanket the red rock country giving its prominent features a fairytale look. This image made at Bryce Canyon National Park highlights its famous spires, called “hoodoos,” which are formed when ice and rainwater wear away the weak limestone that makes up the colorful Claron Formation. High on the Grand Staircase at an elevation of over 8,000 feet the air is especially cold and dry, and the park’s azure skies can often provide visibility up to 100 miles.

So if you’re thinking about a southwest road trip, consider the quieter winter months. With much fewer crowds and unique photo opportunities, you’ll be glad you did – just don’t forget the spare batteries and the cold weather gear.

(click image for larger view & details)

Rime ice on pine tree, San Bernardino National Forest, California

Dawn light on Mount Whitney from the Alabama Hills, Sequoia National Park, California

Crescent moon and dawn light over the Big Sur coast, California

Fall color and fresh snow at Lake Sabrina, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California

Sunset at Soberanes Point, Garrapata State Park, Big Sur, California

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

 Backcountry skier in the Ansel Adams Wilderness, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California

Peninsular Bighorn Sheep, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, California

The Eiffel Tower, Paris, France

Rime ice on pine cones and branches, San Bernardino National Forest, California

The Wave, Coyote Buttes, Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs Wilderness, Arizona

Compelling landscape photography is often comprised of one or more elements that make it stand out from the crowd. Magical light, richly saturated colors, and dramatic vistas can all make for great images, but sometimes we’re not rewarded with these sure-fire conditions even after the long hike or waiting out the inclement weather.

Fortunately there are other ways to create visually dynamic imagery when mother nature is not cooperating – namely your lens and your eyes. Perspective is a powerful tool that is controlled entirely by your choice of lens and framing. A wide angle lens with both excellent depth of field and field of view can be used to emphasize a foreground element such as a plant or rock within the context of its larger mountain or desert environment. In most cases this also creates an imaginary line directing the viewer’s eye across the frame, which in turn adds a sense of drama to the composition.

So the next time the conditions aren’t coming together the way you had planned and your landscapes are proving lack-luster,  try changing your perspective – and you might just see the scene in a whole new light.

Peninsular Bighorn Sheep, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, California

Wildlife photography is not my specialty, but I never pass up the opportunity to add a dynamic element to my landscapes when the local fauna is easily accessible. On a recent trip to Anza-Borrego Desert State Park I had heard that the endangered Peninsular Bighorn Sheep were frequenting the canyons, so I made a point of seeking out these magnificent animals. Still after three days in the park and many miles on the trail I had plenty of great images of blooming succulents and lush oasis, but not a single animal.

Then shortly before leaving the park I decided to make one last trip up Borrego Palm Canyon where, just a half mile up the trail, this handsome creature appeared on the ridge above me. Assuming I might only get a glimpse before he darted up the canyon wall, I took my obligatory insurance shots then waited to see his reaction. Much to my surprise he wasn’t in a hurry, so I left the trail (in a wide arc giving him plenty of room) to get a better angle. At first he was attentive to my movement but not agitated as I crossed the ridge and moved closer, then he seemed to accept my presence and for the next hour provided me with an amazing one-on-one photo session that I won’t soon forget.

Now I would have loved to have ended the day on that note, but unfortunately as the title of this post suggests, my luck had run its course. Not twenty minutes after heading down the trail, I somehow managed to slip on a rock (something I haven’t done in 35 years of traipsing through the wilderness), fell hard on my right side, and watched in horror as my Nikon body and 70-200mm lens lay in five pieces not far from my head. Fortunately I wasn’t injured and my equipment was insured. In fact, the great people at Rand Insurance (who underwrite my Nanpa policy) were so efficient that I was able to replace the equipment within ten days – just in time for an upcoming trip to Europe.

So if there is a moral to this story, it’s to keep taking those insurance shots when opportunity presents itself (and with a little luck you’ll come away with much more). And above all, make sure your equipment policy is up to date!

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.

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.

Climber on Wall Street along the Colorado River Gorge, Utah

Rock climbing is one of those sports in which the sum is definitely greater than the parts. Originally just one facet of mountaineering, it evolved into it’s own specific niche with the advancement of equipment and bold new techniques, which allowed the seemingly impossible to be conquered. But as any climber will tell you, the rewards are much more than just the satisfaction of getting to the top.

For many, climbing is as much a spiritual journey as a physical one. It’s often compared to ballet in the vertical in which a sequence of moves are carefully choreographed and the mind is sharply focused on the next position or placement of protection. And like a chess game, the participant must constantly adapt his or her thinking with each move as the climb progresses.

Because of this requirement of critical thinking it’s not surprising that climbing courses have been encouraged by large corporations across the country to help their employees develope not only trust and teamwork, but focus and attention to detail – disciplines which are critical to success in both endeavors. And of course, the more obvious byproducts of a day at the craigs is great physical conditioning and a memorable adventure with good friends.

Adding photography to the mix is a natural for those looking to capture high action in a natural setting. Whether you’re a participant or just an observer, rock climbers move at a slow enough pace that capturing the moments that define the sport is relatively easy. My favorite lens while climbing is a 16mm, which not only provides a wide field of view to include a good sense of place but has incredible depth of field to make sure everything from the rope in my hands to the distant mountains are sharp.

Antelope Canyon on the Navajo Indian Reservation in Arizona is arguably the finest slot canyon in the American southwest and certainly one of the most photographed. Although beautiful to witness with the naked eye, these jewels of the desert really shine when a long exposure reveals the view our retinas can’t perceive – the subtle shades and hues of the sunlight as it plays on the wind and water sculpted sandstone.

Unlike most landscape photography, which benefits from the warm light of dawn or dusk, slot canyons are best photographed mid-day when the greatest amount of light penetrates the steep and narrow canyon walls.  This image was made with a 24mm wide angle lens and a 30 second exposure - no artificial lighting was used.

Contrary to popular belief lightning can strike the same place twice as shown in this timed exposure in the Ajo Mountains of Arizona. Although there are devices available for capturing lightning images, I find that composing a shot and then making a timed exposure of one to three minutes in sync with the rhythm of the strikes works just as well.

This image was made with a 300mm lens at a distance of about ten miles. While heading back from a day of shooting at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, I noticed the storm in the distance just after sunset and was surprised by the consistency of the strikes on the ridge. Shooting lightning can be dangerous (a tripod makes a good lightning rod!), but the conditions were perfect on this evening with clear skies above me and the long lens bringing the drama safely into view. The challenging part was actually framing the image in complete darkness using only the light from the strikes to compose. After opening the shutter, I watched and waited as mother nature created her elaborate light painting.