Its my fourth morning waking up in the desert. Red dirt fills my pores, and has combined with sweat to form a sort of “desert varnish” over most of my body–a strangely welcome feeling that instantly evokes memories of summer on the Colorado Plateau. I climb out of my sleeping bag, fetch my tripod and camera and walk up the ridge. Below me, a deer moves through the willows, startled no doubt by my heavy feet. Moving further up the ridge and out of the shaded valley, the air warms, but last night’s rain has left the smells of dirt and sage heavy in the air.
I am slightly groggy still as I arrive at the viewpoint I scouted the night before. The sun isn’t up yet, but will begin to break the landscape very soon. I sit on a rock, surveying the sky–no clouds. The rain had left me hopeful of a dramatic sunrise. No luck today. The distant cliffs begin to light up, bright sunlight working its way down the face, highlighting the subtlety in the elegant Wingate sandstone. Sitting there, I smile…I’m home.
Describing the Colorado Plateau has always been incredibly difficult for me. I think this is largely because we all know of its immediate beauty, but the subdued details only reveal themselves with time, after you’ve developed a relationship with the place. Putting the place you love into words for someone who has never been there (or has been there) is not easy, whether its redrock wilderness, the Oregon coast, the brooks of Massachusetts, or the San Juan Mountains in Colorado. The only way to experience it is to coat yourself in dust, sit there, and ponder the land.
The clarity and peace of mind that come out of a relationship with the land is the very reason we need wilderness. Looking around, we see the world changing, at a rapid pace. It dismays me but the fight to save wilderness will begin soon, if not in our generation, certainly in our children’s. Not only must we fight to ensure proper the legislation is in place now, we must also foster this sense of place and belonging in our kids. Thus, to quote Edward Abbey:
It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it’s still here.
So get out there and ramble out yonder, and make every moment count.
Capitol Reef sunrise, July 2011
Beautifully done post Greg. Wilderness has indeed been on the minds of several photographers lately, and it warms my little old heart to see that. This is as fine a post as I’ve seen yet. Thanks for your fine work.
I echo what PJ said above; a beautiful, inspiring post. A perfect read just before heading into my studio for the day. Thank you.
Well said Greg. We need to fight the good fight to preserve these special places. And to remember, especially when the stock market is crashing and the world seems in upheaval, that in wildness lies the preservation of the world.
Really well seen image, Greg! Good light, simple but powerful comp, and it vividly evokes all those crumbling red slopes covered in talus and juniper, which are seriously iconic of the Colorado Plateau, but generally less appreciated and photographed than the slickrock formations.
Wilderness has been on my mind too (post in the works); suffice it to say, now is not the time to be taking wilderness for granted, in either the experiential or the legal sense.
Fine writing and very apt thoughts Greg. We are losing wilderness every day. We are losing rain forests every day. And in return we are gaining….? It seems that the world has lost sight of how we as a people have grown through the years, incrementally, and each generation leaving something of a positive nature for the nest. Now the tendency has become to get as much as one can now and the hell with the future. Why do we need so much? What is wrong with just enjoying the requirements for life and being part of the flow of time?
Anyway, that is a really fine image capturing some sweet light, well worth grogging about, and I like it sandwiched between the shadows. Unique. 🙂
Beautiful post, Greg. It sounds like the trip was very meaningful for you.
The light and dark areas of the photos emphasize the points you are making about the wilderness.
Sharon
Nicely stated Greg!
Wonderful post–I agree with your sentiments completely, and now wish I weren’t stuck inside my office all day (would rather be wandering). That relationship with a place that you describe is so important for both one’s photography as well as for one’s soul, and it’s something I’ve really begun to appreciate more fully over the last year.
Amen. The hardest part about living in Hawaii, especially Oahu, is the almost total lack of solitude. In the past I’ve travelled to Australia from here seeking places like that, but it’s become very expensive to travel there now.
Thanks, everyone, for the comments and kind words–I’m glad you liked the image as well as the thoughts! I know I’m doing a little bit of preaching to the choir when I write things like this, but I felt for me personally, wilderness is something that needs to remain on the forefront of my brain, despite all the other worries going on in the world right now. In no way should those other things be diminished, but the one thing we can always rely on is wild places–we can’t let those go.
Lovely writing. Wilderness doesn’t make me wild, wilderness calms me, speaks to me in so many ways. It is the wilderness that sustains our spirits, feeds our souls!
Thank you.
Hi, Bo…thank you for stopping by, and for adding your own lovely comment. I really appreciate your kind words and thoughts on “wilderness.”
Talk about making the ordinary extraordinary. That photograph is superb. Your writing here is also exemplary. It comes across powerfully because I sense that it is deeply felt. It is also connected, highly descriptive and concrete. Always a pleasure to visit here.
Thank you very much for the kind words, David…I always appreciate you stopping by.