Here’s the first gallery from our recent Western trip. This is a (teeny tiny) sample of all the tumbling waterfalls and cascades we observed as we explored the spine of the Rocky Mountains. It would be an understatement to say we saw “a lot” of waterfalls. I must admit that I was growing weary of setting up my tripod in precarious canyons to try to get that perfect waterfall shot; I was certain I was going to lose at least my tripod on these little excursions, if not my camera as well. Fortunately, we all returned intact!
I have plenty more and will perhaps post another waterfall gallery once I finish all my edits. Whew!
Here is yet another panorama from our recent journeys. Perhaps you already recognize it? It’s one of the many wondrous views found along the Going to the Sun Road in Glacier National Park. It’s less than fifty miles long from end to end, and yet it took us an entire day (probably 14 hours) to drive from one end to the other and back to our campsite. Of course, we stopped for a picnic and even got some pizza during that time, in addition to hiking a few trails and stopping at the many way points to take photos like this. There is a lot to see and do along that relatively short stretch of road! (And lots of construction to avoid as well.)
Glacier National Park is phenomenal, but it wasn’t my favorite park that we visited. I think that honor has to go to the Grand Tetons. (I love my jagged, pointy mountain peaks!) We also visited Zion on a previous trip, and I still think that of all the parks I’ve been to, Zion ranks as the single park you have to visit if you can only visit one. It is a fantastic combination of unique and breathtaking. The spectral coloring and the unusual geological formations, along with the steep canyons and amazing aerial views, make it nearly impossible to beat.
That being said, this panorama takes my own breath away more than any photo I’ve edited so far. The rugged peaks, the endless waterfalls, the glacier-carved cirques, and the snow still lingering into July despite the lush grasses combine to give this panorama a sense of the fantastic. It looks surreal to me, and I probably wouldn’t believe it’s a real place if I hadn’t been there myself. I don’t even have a particular memory of stopping at this point. I’m sure I recognized it as yet another spot of beauty along a stretch of land which, after a while, makes you feel like you’ve become a glutton of beauty. With some photography fatigue, I probably reluctantly set up my tripod and leveled it out and did all the tedious preparations needed for a great panorama. There is just too much to see, too many photo opportunities, to appreciate each stop along the way. But now that I have returned and can finally examine the photos and start to reconstruct a sample of that gluttonous meal of beauty I consumed on this trip, I recognize this as being among some of the best I’ve reconstructed so far.
I still have thousands more photos to get through, so I may yet find another one that surpasses this one. But for right now, I’m skeptical that this won’t be the best of the bunch. I think this is one you have to savor to really appreciate, zoom in and examine all the details–the dozens of cascades and waterfalls, the individual carvings in the rock faces of the mountains, the texture of the grasses, and even the other vehicles stopped along the road, their occupants standing in awe of this amazing scenery. So I hope you’ll wander through this landscape for just a little while. If you click on the image to open it in its own page, you’ll be able to step inside for just a little longer.
As promised, I’m back with more from our recent trip. And it’s another giant panorama! This one is from the Great Sand Dunes National Park, the southernmost park or monument we visited on our vacation, at the base of the Sangre de Cristo mountains in Colorado. If you click on the image to bring up the full-sized version, the intricate patterns on the sand will be more apparent. (And if you look especially closely, you’ll see the little “ants” on the sand hills–which are really people exploring the dunes!)
I’ve visited the Great Sand Dunes many times, as I used to live not far away. I’m not sure I’ve ever been there on a sunny day after a night of steady rain, however. Normally the only pattern you see is that of the sandy mountains themselves, brought about by the relentless and shifting winds. But as the rain evaporated from the sands on this fine morning, we got to see the additional mosaic of sand drying at different rates, creating swirls and whorls like the undulations of a fingerprint. A masterpiece of nature in the works, but an ephemeral one, complemented perfectly by the lovely high clouds in an otherwise sapphire blue sky.
Here is another single image showing the marbling in the sand even more clearly:
After a long hiatus, I am finally back. My husband and I have just returned from a giant camping trip exploring a large swath of the western US (and even a little into Canada). In fact, this first post is from the northern extent of our journey, Waterton Lakes National Park in Alberta. This is a giant panorama, stitched from ten separate images. It is taken from atop “Bear’s Hump,” a short but strenuous hike to a lower peak in the park. It was shortly before sunset when we alighted the top, offering some lovely lighting and an open view perfect for a panorama. Be sure to open the full-size image to view details of the village below and the distant glacier-carved mountains.
Here is a single shot taken from the same perspective, showing a little more detail of the Waterton village below with the mountains disappearing in the distance, into the United States.
In all, I took more than 8000 images from this trip, which made this more of a “work-cation” than a vacation. My husband proved to be an invaluable assistant, loyally lugging around my tripod and helping secure many wonderful perspectives for me to set my camera’s view. Much of the credit for the images lies with him. Needless to say, there will be many more pictures coming.
Photos edited in Lightroom and Photoshop Elements.
I’m sure everyone has already had their fair dose of eclipse photos, but I thought I’d go ahead and subject you to yet another one!
We had brilliantly clear skies, though unseasonably cool after a strong front passed through on Sunday night. I stayed up late, until about three in the morning locally, to wait until the maximum total eclipse. I decided better than to stay up until the end of the eclipse—so what you see here is essentially the first half of it!
The first photo is of the full moon taken before the eclipse began, and then the progress over the next few hours. The final two images in the composite are both from totality: the first just as it was beginning and the last during its maximum, when it was in the midst of its deepest “blood moon” display.
Well, it’s spring. And if you live where I do, that means wind—and DUST. Have I mentioned that I hate dust? There’s an overabundance of it this year, thanks to the long-term drought we’re experiencing in the region. I’m ready for some rain to put all this dust to rest, but I’m not holding on to a lot of hope right now.
BUT…one nice thing about dust is that it does contribute to our fantastic sunsets here. This week has provided a bounty of wonderfully colorful evenings. Each one of these sunset photos is from a different night, taken from around the same point of view. I was in a basement at a church during the sunset on the 3rd, so I completely missed that one. For all I know, it equaled these other evenings in spectacle. (I like to think it did, just to keep the trend unbroken!)
The final picture was taken on the evening of the 4th (along with the picture on its left), but it shows an interesting and fairly uncommon cloud formation: Kelvin-Helmoltz wave clouds. Its accompanying sunset photo, to me, looks a bit like the Great Red Spot on Jupiter. What do you think it looks like?