Here’s an image of Mount Rainier from our new Forces of Nature gallery, which illustrates the power mother nature can unleash in a moment or over a millennium in the form of wind, water, ice, lightning, or magma. The cloud formed just moments before sunset and the glowing mass made the dormant volcano appear to come alive - a fascinating contrast of fire and ice.

To celebrate the soon to be released Yosemite quarter here’s a unique view of America’s 2nd national park. The appropriately named Mist Trail climbs a series of stone steps next to Vernal Falls and is a perfect way to cool off during the warm summer months in the Valley. A rainbow often forms at the base of the falls and the upper portion of the trail is actually carved into the cliff adjacent to the falls providing a spectacular view.

Summer will be here before we know it, so it’s time to start thinking about that quintessential American experience – the road trip. Could be a planned pilgrimage to a specific destination or just aimless wandering on Route 66 for a heavy dose of nostalgia. There are no set guidelines, but less is often more. Either way, it’s important to share the experience with a friend or two to help keep the journey alive long after it’s over.

The saguaro cactus (Carnegiea gigantea) is an icon of the American southwest. These lone sentinels thrive in the harsh environment of the Sonoran Desert, which can exceed 120 degrees in the summer, but is also one of the wettest deserts in North America.  Encompassing parts of Arizona, California and northern Mexico, this region averages 3 to 16 inches of rain a year and has two rainy seasons, one in the summer and another in the winter, which sustains a wide range of flora in addition to the saguaro.

Mature saguaros can reach up to 50 ft in height. They bloom for the first time when they are 50 – 75 years old and may live to 150 – 200 years (and weigh up to 10 tons). Ironically, the saguaro is so synonymous with the southwest that their likeness has been used in commercials and western films in places like Texas and New Mexico where they have never lived in the wild.

This image was made on a recent backcountry ski trip through the Giant Forest in Sequoia National Park.  A storm had just passed in the night and although we were anxious to reach our destination, I knew the fresh snow in the trees wouldn’t last. As I wandered through the grove scene after scene unfolded before my lens, but after only an hour or so the delicate flocking was already beginning to melt.

It’s always a humbling experience to walk among these stately giants – to ponder the fact that they’ve been here long before us and will be here long after we’re gone. But the winter season adds a heightened sense of clarity to the scene and these magnificent trees seem to peer out from their cloaks of white as if to say, “I am wise”.

Climbing in the Tuolumne Meadows area of Yosemite National Park is a magical experience. The domes and spires in this part of the High Sierra stretch as far as the eye can see and the crisp, clear alpine air at over 10,000 feet is a refreshing alternative to the often crowded Yosemite Valley. It was here that  John Muir spent his summers, and from these lofty summits he named it the Range of Light.

This image was taken on Matthes Crest, a popular route that traverses a spectacular knife-edged ridge and provides a unique alpine experience. My favorite climbing lens is the Nikkor 16mm, which has a wide field of view, provides maximum depth of field, and is very compact making it easy to climb with. Photographing climbs is always a challenge as vantage points are limited and safety always comes first. But great shots have a way of presenting themselves and capturing these images is often just a matter of living in the moment.

March 22nd is World Water Day. It’s hard to believe that we share the planet with nearly 1 billion people who don’t have access to clean drinking water. So enjoy that drink (but don’t forget to turn off the faucet).

HDR (or High Dynamic Range) is an increasingly popular process of combining digital files to create an image that more closely resembles what the eye sees. It’s used primarily when the contrast in a scene exceeds the latitude of what the film or sensor is able to capture in a single shot.

Depending on the amount of contrast in the scene a series of up to 7 identical brackets one stop apart are combined, which represent all of the tonal value from the darkest shadows to the brightest highlights. This image of False Kiva in Canyonlands National Park is very close to what I saw that evening, but the extreme contrast would have made it nothing more than a vision in my mind’s eye if not for HDR.

Photographic purists may balk at the use of such digital wizardry, but in fact it is not unlike the dodging and burning that Ansel Adams used countless times in the darkroom to achieve his magical prints. As he put it, “the negative is the score, and the print is the performance”. I concur, and feel that any photographic process which helps render a natural scene as it was witnessed is acceptable as long as it does not deceive the viewer or alter the truth.

The cliff dwellings of the American southwest are the most spectacular ruins north of Mexico. The Anasazi Indians (or ”ancient ones” as the modern Navajo call them) were the prehistoric pueblo culture that thrived in the Four Corners region between 900 and 1200 A.D. then mysteriously disappeared.

Many of their elaborate structures are well-preserved in national parks such as Mesa Verde in southwestern Colorado, Chaco Canyon in New Mexico, and Canyon de Chelly in Arizona. From three story citadels perched precariously on canyon ledges like Square Tower House above, to the 500 room Great Houses of Chaco Canyon, these skilled masons left a legacy to rival the ruins of ancient Greece.

Archaeologists and scholars still debate what caused their sudden demise toward the end of the 12th century, but the stone handywork of the Anasazi remains a fascinating testament to the vision and tenacity of these ancient people.

My last post illustrated the dramatic destruction that mother nature can unleash from below the earth’s surface – a powerful force that destroys everything in its path. Still as devastating (and impressive) as a volcanic eruption can be, it’s an isolated event and the damage it causes is limited in scope.

In contrast, global warming is an unnatural event that although much slower than lava (and much less attractive) has a far greater impact on our planet. As a nature photographer I’m naturally concerned about the effect this has on the source of my livelihood and the places I’m passionate about, and as an environmentalist I’m doing everything I can to reduce my carbon footprint from driving a hybrid to filling my downtime with muscle powered sports.

It’s ironic that NASA just discovered water on the moon that may someday support human life, while the waters here at home are continuing to rise!