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.

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.

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.

One of the more curious natural phenomena is the occasional tendency for nature to mimic human form. Anthropomorphic images (meaning human characteristics in inanimate objects) can appear in rocks, plants and animals. Typically they appear only for a fleeting moment or from a unique perspective, but like finding an Easter egg they are a photographic treat.

This image of Lady in a Bathtub Butte in Valley of the Gods, Utah was taken late in the day to create a strong silhouette and emphasize the outline of the rock against the blue sky. The back-lit clouds added a nice balance to the whimsical scene.

Shooting water in all its endless variety is one of the creative pleasures of nature photography. From drops of dew reflecting a crisp autumn morning to the power of cascading falls frozen in time, the camera allows many unique perspectives of our most abundant resource that are seldom seen in a passing glance.

This image of Calf Creek Falls in the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument was made on an overcast day with a long exposure of 20 seconds. The cloudy sky diffused the harsh mid-day light and saturated the colors of the mossy rock, while the slow shutter speed gave the falls a silky look.

As a followup to my last post, The Wave is another gem of the southwest that’s a very popular destination with photographers, but also one of the most remote spots on the map. So remote in fact that on my first trip I failed to find it – even with a GPS!

It’s a wonderful example of chaos theory applied to geology. Basically a petrified sand dune that’s been carved by the forces of wind and water over the ages, it’s easy to see how it got its name. I made this image a few years ago on my second trip to the area, which lies on the Arizona/Utah border southwest of Lake Powell. The image was taken with a 20mm wide angle lens to emphasize the dizzying curves and create a sense that the formation is much bigger than it really is.

I often say you could spend the rest of your life wandering around the remote corners southern Utah and still not see it all. The myriad of canyons and buttes are a feast for the eye (and lens) and are worthy of all the wilderness status we can give them. But invariably I do visit the more popular locations like Zion and Bryce where the challenge is to find those hidden gems amid the well-covered icons.

On a recent trip to Zion I made of point of getting a permit and hiking the better part of a day to a remote corner of the park along North Creek. After several miles of stream crossings and boulder hopping I arrived at The Subway – one of the jewels of the park. I spent several hours shooting this magical spot while the light continually changed as it played off the canyon walls and illuminated the stream and pools.