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.

Kiva in the mission convento at Pecos Pueblo, Pecos National Historic Park, New Mexico

Nestled in the lower slopes of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains 25 miles southeast of Santa Fe, Pecos National Historic Park encompasses the remains of one of the largest and most influential Indian pueblos in the region. Long before Coronado and Spanish influence arrived in 1540, this pueblo village was the major confluence of trade between the people of the Rio Grande Valley and the hunting tribes of the buffalo plains.

The rich mixture of history and culture at Pecos also includes the Santa Fe Trail and the Civil War Battle ground at Glorieta Pass, where the Confederacy’s last hopes of taking the goldfields of Colorado and California vanished. Today the park is far enough from the interstate and the bustle of Santa Fe that the only sound is the wind whispering through its adobe walls like spirits from the past.  It’s easy to forget that for centuries this was a major crossroads of North America and with over 12, 000 years of history preserved, it really is one of the hidden gems of the National Park System.

Hiker looking down on the colorful Cedar Breaks Amphitheater, Cedar Breaks National Monument, Utah

There’s a popular climb at Joshua Tree called “Figures on a Landscape” that got me thinking about the connection between man and the environment. Not so much from an environmental standpoint (this could fill numerous posts), but photographically speaking. The climb is not long by Yosemite standards, but the lack of apparent holds on the colorful granite creates the illusion of climbers on a much larger stone palette.

Landscape photography can often portray the natural world in abstract even with the best intentions of  preserving its true form. It’s the nature of the beast – and that’s fine when you’re creating intentional abstracts or scale is irrelevant. Perspective control lenses and software can correct bending horizons and converging trees to create a more accurate representation if necessary, but there isn’t much else in nature that subscribes to our architectural way of thinking.

Now don’t get me wrong – that’s a good thing! Nature should be wild and chaotic and unpredictable, and in most cases that’s exactly what we’re hoping to capture. But there are times when this can also lead to confusion with our audience. When you’re trying to convey a sense of scale such as the immensity of the Grand Canyon or the vastness of the night sky the simple inclusion of a person in the frame can give your image an instant focal point and more importantly, a sense of perspective.

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.

San Felipe de Neri Church, Old Town Albuquerque, New Mexico

I’ll be making a shift from my usual subject matter while visiting many of the classic locales in France and Italy during the next few weeks. I’m looking forward to the challenge of creating unique images at some of the popular landmarks as well as just immersing myself in the culture and stepping outside of my photographic comfort zone.

This image of San Felipe Church in Albuquerque isn’t quite on the same timeline nor does it possess the architectural grandeur of the likes of Notre Dame or St. Marks Basilica, but it does represent the old world of the American southwest and the spirit that it evokes. Classic lines, classic beauty.

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.

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.

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.