Walking into a narrow canyon in Capitol Reef National Park, I stopped and turned around to view the path I had taken. This tree was perfectly framed by the canyon walls and the cliff in the background. The shapes, colors, shadows and highlights created this image. All I had to do is place my tripod down and push the shutter. Nature is amazing.
My future bride wrote the following poem to describe how she felt when viewing the image
Growth is everywhere, even underneath the layers of rock where years of rain, wind, and river water color them a bright reddish, with lines and splashes of experience.
The tree winds and tangles to the sun as if it wants to be seen up where the air is clear and open, a place it stretches to yet cannot see.
It is a ghost-like journey, this quest to become. The journey, with its twists and branches, is the story that is not yet written, not yet told.
Goblin Valley is located close to Capitol Reef National Park in south central Utah. It is an intriguing sight. I have never seen anything that is similar. The clay mushroom figures range from about 6 feet to 12 feet high. They looked like an army of “goblins” waiting to march into a fight.
When we arrived, the area was in the middle of a heavy downpour. We had to wait underneath a shelter overlooking the valley for almost an hour before the rain let up enough to venture out. The walk down into the valley was slow and slippery. Mud came up over the ankles of my boots. It was a messy slog through the valley but well worth it!
Down I walked into Goblin Valley. Stone soldiers were gathered around waiting for their leader to give direction. I walked around and around through their midsts and found this line of soldiers starting to march. I quickly formed into line with my camera and tripod on my shoulder like a rifle. On we marched out of the valley to a destination unknown. I slid out of ranks and sneaked back to my car.
This image is a repeat of a prior post in 2018. I was driving through the Alabama Hills, turned a corner and saw this strange looking alien staring right at me. Chills ran down my back! I quickly pulled off the road, let the dust settle, and introduced myself. He didn’t say much and just frowned.
How beautiful the snow is, but it is really cold. Today was -6 degrees when I got up. It is “dry” cold, so not too uncomfortable. Since Punxsutawney Phil made his prediction of an early spring, winter has hit Eastern Washington hard. We have had our first real snow of the year and the temperatures have dropped below zero. We are in for more!
The only good advice I have heard is to not trust the groundhog. Out of Phil’s 103 predictions, he has been right only 39% of the time! I see that he has about the same prediction accuracy as our regular weather forecasters.
It is about time that we had our first real snow of the year. Our luck of having mild winter weather has just run out. Last week I was out golfing. I don’t think I will make it out this week!
This morning was 20 degrees when I went out to photograph. I came in after about an hour walk around the house. After warming up, I decided that I would rather review and work on my images instead of going out and shovel snow. I guess I can’t put it off any longer … it’s time to go out and get to work.
I looked out the window and watch the fog roll in. Ghost images appeared where just a few minutes earlier trees stood. I couldn’t resist going outside to try to capture the feeling. I was thinking, “Look at all these cool silhouettes!” It only took a few moments for my fingers to freeze, making it difficult to operate my camera. I took a few images and scurried back into the warm house.
Bare branches against a winter sky always catch my eye. Last week I was driving along the Interstate when I saw an interesting pattern on the Horse Heaven Hills. I took an exit to explore with my camera. After a little walk, I looked up and saw these tree branches against the sky. It gave me a cold, gloomy feeling. I couldn’t resist the opportunity.
A few days ago we had a light snow. I gazed our from my kitchen window and became fixated on the wonderful piece of history in my backyard. The snow provided a nice contrast between the irrigation flume’s wood structure and the sagebrush speckled background.
This piece of history was built in 1892 to provide irrigation water to the Selah Valley. Over the years, much of the canal has been upgraded and the wooden flumes torn down. I am lucky to have one of the few remaining sections above my home. I currently get my irrigation water directly from this flume. Sadly, it won’t be for too many additional years. Plans are to replace this section with an underground pipe. So until funds are available, I will enjoy what remains of our little bit of history.