Southwest: Fringe Photography

Classic Wave

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 15:11:15 GMT

So, I was walking through a big box store the other day and noticed that the newest crop of computers are once again featuring The Wave as one of the default desktops. That, plus it being a bitterly cold very winter-like day around these parts, inspired me to go back to my archives and post a picture of The Wave I took this summer. Even though it is not really warm for me right now, it never hurts to pretend, does it?

The Wave is a spectacular place, and if you ever get the chance to go there...well, make sure you do. It is in the very northern part of Arizona, although you typically access it from Utah and walk south through the desert across the state line to this feature. Although it looks like it stretches on forever when you see it in photos, in actuality it doesn't. In fact, the entire feature is quite small when it comes down to it. Still, it is just awe-inspiring to be there at The Wave.

So, from the archives, here is a classic shot of The Wave.

Rainbow Point

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 23 Mar 2010 15:06:57 GMT

Rainbow Point, located deep within Bryce Canyon, is a spectacular overlook. Although it is hard to find a place within Bryce Canyon that is not incredible, Rainbow Point is one place that stands out. And that is even more true at sunset. Caught here in the very last rays of the day, the sun caught the tips of the hoodoos and lit them up, bringing the canyon alive, and, just for a moment, making it all seem as if it was on fire.

The moment lasted all too briefly however, and the sun slipped below the horizon and the canyon slipped into the deep of the night.

Ojito Sunset

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 16:09:28 GMT

The day dawned with the most beautiful skies--ah, but it was goingto be a perfect day. However, by the time the afternoon rolled around, so did the overcast clouds and the day was not cooperating.Still, I figured I would head to the desert, just because, justmaybe, the clouds would magically be somewhere else. Yeah, right...Ican delude myself with the best of them.

It was, in the end, a really wonderful drive in the desert; down aone lane (and that's being generous) dirt road, full of ruts andaxel-breaking bumps, random drop offs, and very steep hills that seethe road turn at the top of the hill. In other words, what a cool place. Still, no sunset was happening because of the overcast clouds.

But while driving out of the desert, in my rear-view mirror the most magic sight appeared, but only for a moment. I slammed on thebrakes and jumped out just as the sun slipped below a distant mesa.And exactly after it did, the clouds parted, briefly, ever, ever sobriefly and the desert lit up, just for me.

It was a glorious day!

Silent Sentinel

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 18:18:37 GMT

Waiting. Waiting. Patiently, ever so patiently, it waited across the centuries, always on guard. The hoodoo, topped by its capstone, stands atop mesa, keeping watch below and above. Patiently. Ever so patiently.

And on days like today, when the storms roll in, it stands as a silent sentinel, watching as the clouds gather and thicken with the threat of severe weather. Not flinching, never moving, it stands there, on guard. Watching. And waiting. Patiently.

This particular sentinel is a lone hoodoo in Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument. Standing high and somewhat apart from its fellows, it reminded me of a sentinel as a storm began to gather. Like so many hoodoos, it has a capstone on it, a product of the centuries of erosion from wind and water. Who knows what events this hoodoo has seen, but given how long they take to form, it has certainly seen its share of happenings. The entire area is full of incredible formations--but this lonely one stood out amongst them.

Waiting. Watching. Patiently.

Jemez Window

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 03:19:07 GMT

The Jemez Mountains in New Mexico are a pretty wonderful place. Primarily known for the hot springs in the area, this mountainous region has one main road through it, and many, many side roads. These side roads, as is so often the case, have so much to offer.

This tunnel is down one such side road. The road starts off innocently enough, and looks like, but quickly ends up not being much of a "road" at all. Mostly one lane, it threads through steep canyons. Sheer cliffs are on one side, and a sizable drop off is on the other. A guardrail, which may or may not actually function as intended, holds you onto the road.

Near the end of the road is a tunnel. A short tunnel, to be sure, but a tunnel nonetheless. And just after the tunnel the pavement ends (not an uncommon thing in New Mexico) and the road dwindles into nothing. You have to wonder why the tunnel was built. But built it was and photographed it was, too.

Santa Fe Sunset

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 03:21:32 GMT

Ah, Santa Fe. The City Different. The capital of New Mexico. A place steeped in the lore and tradition of the old west. An old place, one photographed by countless photographers through the ages.

Yet, the New Mexico skies offer an equally endless variation, and there is always one more spectacular photograph to be found. Like, for example, this incredible sunset captured just south of Santa Fe on the Santa Fe Trail. Fiery skies were slow to give way to night, and the dying sun held out as long as it could. In the end, though, night was to have its way with the day. Captured right at the moment daylight surrounded, Santa Fe Sunset happened.

Bryce Moon

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 00:00:13 GMT

There is something deeply magical about sunrise in Bryce Canyon National Park. And there is something even more magical about being in the canyon as the sun begins it ascent into the day. And then, if that isn't enough, there is something down right awe-inspiring to look up and out of the canyon to find the moon high above you.

Combining all of these elements together at one time makes it hard to remember to breath. Within the canyon, the air is quiet (oh so very quiet) and still, and the only sound you can hear is your breathing (assuming you do manage to remember to do that). The rocks come alive with their own dance of the shadows, and their magic fills the air.

Before long the sun crests over the canyon rim, bringing another kind of beauty. But in the meantime, the moon over Bryce reigns supreme.

Cloudy HooDoos

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 00:01:12 GMT

Nothing quite shows off Bryce Canyon National Park like a wonderfully cloudy day. Witness this panoramic shot from Bryce Point; the clouds were just beginning to roll in and a storm was just beginning to gather. This shot is looking east, and the storm rolled in from that direction; the clouds swept up and into the canyon, turning the normally bright hoodoos into something some far more sinister.

This shot, too, does a great job of providing a sense of distance, for one can see almost all the way to forever. The beauty of this place simply defies description.

Bryce Contrast

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 00:02:39 GMT

This high contrast panorama of Bryce Canyon National Park shows off some of the wild beauty of the area. The colors in person are absolutely breathtaking, and are, of course, predominately red. However, the canyon floor is covered by towering pines, giving an incredible combination of color. Add in a cloudy sky that seems to stretch into infinity and we have the perfect recipe for a striking shot.

This panorama was taken at Bryce Point, an iconic location within the park. The pine trees, while looking like small shrubs are in actuality very, very high. There is an incredible sense of scale with this particular shot. Also, a small bit of post processing was applied to bring out the contrasts that appear in person.

HooDoo Panorama

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 00:11:55 GMT

Bryce Canyon National Park is famous for one thing it has in abundance…hoodoos! HooDoos are natural rock formation that form lots of sharp looking peaks of rock. Although the look quite small, appearances are deceiving, for up close they are actually quite large. While it might seem that you can put your arms around each one, you won't even come close, not even if you are Paul Bunyon.

HooDoos seem to clump together, too, which makes them even more interesting. And sometimes, they form with slightly rounded edges, giving them a wonderfully exotic flare.

Bryce Sunset

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 15:23:46 GMT

There are moments in time when you look up and suddenly, there before you, is the most incredible scene. Such is the case of Bryce Sunset. There, amidst the beauty of the hoodoos that is Bryce Canyon National Park, was this magnificent sunset. And yes, if you look closely, there is nary a hoodoo nor canyon to be found. Just rolling hills, flowing trees and the ubiquitous southwest desert mountains in the background.

And of course the color tones, which just leapt out at me. Ranging from the deep red hues at the bottom to the golden yellows and oranges at the top, the sun lights the landscape in the way that only happens in the southwest.

Bryce Canyon has a tremendous amount of beauty. And much of it doesn't even involve a hoodoo.

Wave Pool

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 23:55:10 GMT

The Wave is a wonderful place. Located somewhere just south of the Utah state line in Arizona, deep in the Paria Wilderness, The Wave lies hidden. There are no roads or trails to this place--you simply have to trek through the desert, navigating by landmark (or GPS… I recommend the GPS method) to reach it. The windswept rock formation is absolutely breathtaking. The lines and colors are incredible to behold, and you've seen pictures, I assure you, of this place. For example, it is a popular computer wallpaper by at least two major manufacturers.

The Wave, being in the desert, doesn't change a lot as the seasons go by. Now and then there is a bit of snow. And in the summer months you might be lucky enough to catch a small seasonal pool. This, then, is that seasonal pool with the sky reflecting in it.

Wave Reflection

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 00:00:33 GMT

The Wave is a wonderful red rock formation in the Paria Wilderness/Coyote Buttes area. Managed by the Bureau of Land Management to protect this delicate wonder, it lies virtually hidden in the desert. To reach it, one must hike through the desert, bereft of any road, trail or real map, to find it. And some people simply do not find it, despite their best efforts.

During the summer months there exists, sometimes, a small seasonal pool. Yes, a real pool, in the desert no less. Yet, against all odds it is there tucked away in one corner of The Wave, and there might even be tadpoles in there. This lovely photo is of that seasonal pool and its reflection.

Windswept Wave

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 00:04:22 GMT

There exists deep in the Paria Wilderness a strange and wonderful rock formation known as The Wave. Carved through the millennia The Wave's lines, patterns and colors make this one of the most striking areas anywhere in the desert southwest.

What is even more amazing is that The Wave really isn't that big. In fact, as rock formations go, it is very, very small, and would fit just a few people. One person within in makes it feel crowded, in fact. But its physical size is nothing compared to the awe you will feel when looking at it.

This small section of wave details some of the patterns and colors found within it. The gentle curves and sharp ridges form a wonderful counterpoint to each other.

Wave Lookout

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 00:12:10 GMT

Shot from within The Wave looking out into Coyote Buttes. The Wave is a wonderful place within the Paria Wilderness. It is managed by the BLM (Bureau of Land Management) and is accessible by permit only. Unfortunately, getting that permit is not the easiest thing to do, but luckily I did. The Wave is a pretty recognizable feature--it has even been a desktop wallpaper for a couple of computer systems, including Microsoft Windows and the Apple Mac.

But this shot, I like, simply because it encapsulates The Wave, yet is a different point of view. It is looking out from The Wave over the Paria Wilderness. The colors and patterns in the rock were deeply attractive to me, and this, then, is the result.

Red Wave

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 00:14:52 GMT

The Wave, located in the Coyote Buttes area of Northern Arizona, is an incredible rock formation. Carved over the eons by the relentless winds that rip through the desert, it is characterized by its unique lines, swirls, ridges, detail and of course color. Yet not every incredible picture of The Wave is only of The Wave.

This photo is taken from within The Wave looking out into the surrounding bluffs. Taken near mid day, the sun really highlighted the red rock of the desert. And yes, it really is this red. Maybe even more so.

Wave Top

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 00:18:29 GMT

This photo represents almost all of The Wave, or at least the main feature area. The Wave is a wind-carved rock formation located in the Paria Wilderness of the desert southwest. This iconic location is not readily accessible. There are no roads or trails, and one must hike through the desert, gear in hand, to get there. The journey is more than worth it, however, and once you get there you'll have trouble breathing for all the beauty.

Coyote Teepees

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 02:36:06 GMT

Coyote Buttes in the Paria Wilderness has some of the most incredible scenery anywhere. Of course, the area in general is known for its iconic feature, The Wave, but this is by no means the only magnificent formation--not by a long shot.

One such grouping of rocks is called simply The Teepees… three guesses as to why and the first two just don't count. Standing there, tall and proud, the teepees tower (well, OK, that's a stretch. But they are tall) over the surrounding land, easily earning their nickname.

Hamburger Rock

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 23:29:13 GMT

It is in our nature, I think, to anthropomorphize animals and sometimes, even, inanimate objects. We assign gender pronouns to ships. We generally tend to view our world around us as ourselves, I suppose. And, of course, we tend to see familiar things and shapes in the oddest places.

Like, for example, a rock. We see rocks as certain shapes all the time.

And, come to think of it, I have just decided that I am hungry for a hamburger.

Queen's Castle

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 23:36:44 GMT

Rising from the inky darkness the Queen's Castle is a formidable fortress. With towers that reach for the sky, its lookouts can see clear into next week. With massive and thick walls, it simply cannot be breached. Lacking an entrance, and thus a door, there is no fear of that being broken down. And nestled there at the bottom of Bryce Canyon, there is no moat necessary. No water, either, but that's another story.

The hoodoos of Bryce Canyon form interesting and fanciful formations. Over the years, people have given them equally fanciful names, and thus Queen's Castle came to be.

Hoodoo Land

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 23:56:09 GMT

Bryce Canyon National Park is known for its hoodoos. Hoodoos are the result of countless centuries of erosion. Bit by bit, pebble by pebble, the soft rock is carved away and of course, the hard rock, less so. The result? A hoodoo! And when you get a lot of hoodoos together the looks is absolutely incredible.

Bryce Canyon, then, is well and truly Hoodoo land. There are a lot of hoodoos there--how many, well, surely someone knows, but based on this small sampling it is beyond fair to say that there is a countless number there.

And the wind, and erosion, continues carving the canyon.

Taking Flight

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 23:52:01 GMT

The afternoon was perfectly silent--nothing save the whisper of the wind could be heard in the canyon. Perhaps, if one used their imagination, one might hear the gentle gurgle of water from the Colorado River, or, perhaps that was just wind again. The heat is oppressive, it being summer, and not a creature is stirring.

Save for the crow that has decided to move from here to there. The "whoosh" of its wings breaks the silence and just like that the afternoon's quiet is no more. The crow took off from a large rock outcrop and is headed off in search of prey, or perhaps just a change of view.

After a moment, the flight fades into the distance and silence descends once again.

Navajo Bridge

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 23:53:57 GMT

First spanning Marble Canyon in 1929, the Navajo Bridge replaced the ferry crossing at Lee's Ferry--and good thing, too, for crossing the Colorado Rover via the ferry, especially in high water and rough weather was never a sure thing. For years, this bridge was an incredible boon to the entire region, allowing a large volume of traffic to flow readily over the river.

In time the bridge, being narrow by modern standards, needed replacing, and gave way in 1997 to the new modern version of the bridge. And modern day traffic continues to use this bridge as progress continues.

Yucca Dune

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 15:21:22 GMT

The emptiness, when seen from just the right angle, is absolute and complete. The white gypsum sands stretch on for an infinity, never beginning, never ending, always continuing, always stretching, endless emptiness.And in the middle of this, life always finds a way. Growing in the middle of nowhere and everywhere, the Yucca, alone on its dune, perseveres. It is undaunted by the endless emptiness and continues its race against the sands. Make no mistake about it, either, for it is a race against life. If this Soapstone Yucca cannot grow quick enough or tall enough, the shifting sands of the dune will eventually cover it, overwhelming it and consuming it. In the White Sands National Monument, this race happens throughout the dune field, with many victors and many losers. Some dunes have a lot of participants on them--others, like this dune, sport just one isolated yucca, which is leading the way, perhaps, for others yet to follow. For now, though, the race for survival continues on this Yucca Dune; the sands continue to stretch on to infinity, the silence complete and the outcome far from certain.

White Solitude

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 19:26:48 GMT

There. Deep in the hear of nowhere it sat. Just so, at an angle designed to carefully shield the sun. It rested jauntily upon the top of a dune, a splash of color in the other otherwise desolate landscape. Actually, it was the only splash of color there, apart from the white and the blue of the distant mountains.White Sands National Monument in southern New Mexico is a place like no other. Trackless, endless dunes of white gypsum sand stretch as far as the eye can see, and beyond. The solitude and the silence deep in the dune field is like no other, and the only sounds heard are those that you yourself make... and even then you are just swallowed up by the vastness. It seems that no matter how far you walk, how many dunes you climb, or how many times your feet step forward there is one more dune ahead of you. Perhaps that’s true, but there is, of course, the mountains in the distance to provide contrast.Being out among the dunes gives you, however, a deep sense of peace and tranquility. Intellectually, you know the dunes do not stretch forever, yet in your heart and soul you know that they must.For those who crave solitude, this is the place to be. Just don’t forget your umbrella.

Monumental Goodnight

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 20:24:35 GMT

The world, just after the sun sets, completely changes. The creatures and the denizens of the daylight hours give way to the mysteries and mayhem of the night. For who knows what lurks there in the darkness?But the time of transition is also a time of magic in the land. The colors ebb and flow--quickly, far too quickly--transitioning, sometimes, from the golden yellows to the purples to the reds and beyond. Once the sun has set, then the nighttime blues and deeper tones come alive, but briefly, ever briefly, as darkness claims and rules the land.This is Monument Valley after the sun has set. There isn’t a lot of color left in this particular sunset, save the very one I wanted the most. Blue. And a whole lot of it. This is a personal piece for me. It represents the last gasp of the day. Long after most people have stopped looking, well, that’s the time when the magic happens. And so it is with this piece. The peace; the serenity; the creep of the evening all come alive. Rather than capture this scene while there was more light, this is, to me, far more representative of what it looks like the moment before darkness reigns supreme. It is a time of reflection, of contemplation, of silence. And so... with that, may you have a Monumental Goodnight.

Aspen Wood

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 13:35:31 GMT

The Aspens in fall. What an incredible sight!And the aspens in the fall in Colorado are an even more spectacular sight! Everywhere one looks the colors of the leaves are bright and vivid; vibrant and in every hue of yellow and orange one can imagine. As far as the eye can see the scene before you is just intense.Yet, this particular shot is one of my very favorites. Taken along the Million Dollar Highway (as near to Telluride as this highway gets, which in this case is about five miles. Still, it is the closest town, even if the road doesn’t even pass through there.) in September, it caught me completely off guard. I was, frankly, looking up at the leaves, and pondering their colors when I looked off to my left. And then... ... this. I was taken by the way the strong sunlight filtered down below to where I was. I loved the shadows that played along the aspen trunks. I adored the hint of fall colors in the background, yet also the greens of summer still hanging on in the foreground. And as I look back on this, the memories of that perfect fall day come flooding back to me as I stood there, deep in the Aspen Wood.

Frío Bonito

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Tue, 11 Jan 2011 18:06:55 GMT

The fresh snow accentuates the sheer coldness and isolation of the long abandoned Pueblo, and the canyon is empty as far as the eye can see. The silence is absolute, save for the rustle of the wind and the howl of a single lone coyote off in the distance. Yet, despite the coldness and the emptiness, despite the ravages of time, and despite being in solitude for 1,000 years, Pueblo Bonito is still alive. Very much so.

One can hear the ancient echos amongst its walls and rooms. One can hear the excited voices as old friends are reunited and share a tale. One can hear the laughter of the children as they run, as children always do. One can feel the warmth of the fires, offering heat and companionship. One can hear the ceremony just beginning there in the kiva. You can feel deep, deep inside your soul the power and the energy of this Great House. For despite it being left empty, it really isn't and it never will be.

Its walls may not all be standing. Not every block is in place. The once immaculate veneer has long been gone and the inner masonry laid bare to time. But Pueblo Bonito, a Great House in Chaco Canyon, New Mexico, still commands the valley in which it sits. It is still the center of the Chacoan World and it is still a magnificent place.

Its people may have long left, but it is far from forgotten. And it remains alive. Very much so.

Ancient Alto

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 16:06:11 GMT

They're gone. The Ancient Ones have been gone for more than 1,000 years. But the spirit and the essence of them remain, and one is reminded of that in so many ways.

This is approaching New Alto Pueblo in Chaco Canyon National Historic Park, New Mexico; it stands there, its ancient walls still struggling against time, and still, all in all, holding up quite well. All that remains above ground is the upper reaches of the second story of this structure; the rest buried, its secrets still intact.

This day a west wind was blowing, bringing in clouds with it. High above the plains the clouds moved, but one cloud took a slight detour in its journey to reach down toward New Alto. Perhaps it was saying hello to an old friend; perhaps it was merely curious as to how the ancient pueblo was doing.

In any event it quickly rejoined the rest and continued toward the east. New Alto was alone again. The walls remain braced for another 1,000, or more, years, until the Ancient Ones come again, visited only by the occasional visitor, and of course, the wind and clouds.

Antelope Passageway

david@fringe.com (Fringe Photography) — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 15:35:44 GMT

Deep within the Navajo Nation there lies a completely unremarkable desert landscape. Nothing--absolutely nothing--seems any different than any other part of the surrounding desert, and all is quiet. Upon a slight mound is a slight crevasse; again nothing unusual here. And leading up to the small crevasse (which is, after all, just a few feet wide) is a completely normal wash.

But should one walk up the wash they will discover that it leads to a very remarkable slot canyon hidden in the desert--Antelope Canyon. And as the passageway of the slot canyon is breached absolute magic cascades all around you. The colors, texture, patterns and even the form of the canyon’s walls are beyond compare. Depending on the time of the day and year, the colors can range from brown to yellow to orange to red to purple, and often, all these colors, and more, all at once.

Antelope Canyon is a wonderful reminder of the beauty of this world, for that beauty can be found in the most unexpected places at the most unexpected times, if only one looks around them. Take nothing for granted, for you never know what lies just before you; what magic and wonders abound, there for the looking.