layers

12 May 2014.   The calendar on the wall displays a photograph of lush, green lady ferns beside a stream in Banning State Park, Minnesota.  But here on the mesa, there is snow on the windows and the sky is bleak.  Snow in May is not without precedent.  Friends of ours from Colorado claim that the most terrifying drive of their 70+ years was when they left our house some years ago, again in May, making their way over U. S. Highway 64 from Tres Piedras to Tierra Amarilla.  The road is narrow, and drop offs occasionally are not for the faint of heart.  In blinding snow, hold on for dear life.  As they did.  The good news about snow in May and fire season, is that moisture of any kind is welcome, and the high winds have diminished, even if temporarily.

Given that backdrop, I turn to photographs in bright sunshine - layers of earth.  Not being a geologist, I cannot tell you the depths nor the ages of the layers, but instead use the photographs as a demonstration of visual beauty and interest.

The first is of a series of dunes at Great Sand Dunes National Park and Reserve in southern Colorado.  The light and dunes constantly change, providing endless photographic possibilities.  I love the way clouds alter the look of the dunes.

Echo Amphitheatre near Abiquiu has distinct geological layers that are stunning in color and shape.

Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument contains passageways through the layers of sandstone, waiting to be discovered.

until next Monday,

DB

a passion for the image

water, comma, water everywhere, comma

At some point during my teenage years (far too long ago for me to recall a precise date), I was required to memorize a poem, with all the punctuation, for an English class assignment.  My choice was the Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.  Why?  That is still a mystery, but probably because the rhythm made sense and, most of all, it was easy to memorize.  Straight forward does just fine.  And I can tell you right now that there was no way I memorized it in its entirety!

The only reason I bring this up is my own (and many in the western United States) current obsession with water - truly, the lack thereof.  Except for the lucky ones (or the unlucky effected by mudslides) in Washington State, the drought continues on a huge scale, and relief has yet to come.  Comparing notes, it is making many yearn for water - still or flowing.  Here are some shots to quench our thirst for it.  The first is of Half Moon Tank, Cochise Stronghold, Dragoon Mountains, Arizona.

Here is the Rio Grande under the Gorge Bridge.  After looking at this image for some time, I discovered all sorts of stuff in the foreground on the left, including a road repair sign.  Oh, the stories this river could tell!

A reflection of the Grand Tetons in Jenny Lake.

until next Monday,

DB

a passion for the image

The Gorge

Although it has neither been seen nor photographed by as many people or in as many ways as the Grand Canyon, the Rio Grande and its gorge is northern New Mexico's jewel.   The massive volcanic area through which the river carved and altered the landscape, some 242,5000 acres, was named a National Monument this March.  From south to north, there are multiple approaches and ways to view it.  Two overlooks along Highway 68 north from Espanola to Taos are stunning, but the second of these provides almost a roller coaster effect of rising and then sinking slightly, revealing the Gorge in a truly stunning way.  It literally takes your breath away, if just for a moment.

North of the Gorge Bridge, there are a number of overlooks and camp sites which offer totally different visions of the area.  

However you choose to view El Rio, I highly recommend this time of year.  It is a bit cooler, and the light is perfect for photographing the Gorge and the bridge as well.

until next Monday,

DB

a passion for the image