My skin glows under a thin layer of makeup, and my form is
almost revealed through my lightweight dress. The airconditioner blowing at my
side creates the illusion that the temperature is cool, and the non-descript
walls and furnishings of this hotel would make one believe I am just about anywhere.
But the sun shines through the window, and harshly illuminates the yellow
flowers and small trees which miraculously grow in the desert. A photographer
friend relaxes on his bed, silently reading a book, resting his eyes, mind and
arms from the continual turns of hours of unpaved roads.
I am in Escalante, Utah. Yesterday morning Ken Prevette and
I departed Albuquerque and reached Lake Powell after too many hours to mention,
a journey of long, straight roads where making a turn was worthy of proclamation.
This morning I decided to wake up earlier than required, anxious to get ready
for beautiful, morning light, knowing that once low light passed, we would be
faced with harsh conditions, regardless of the beauty around us. We did not
have a boat, so shooting with the lake in the background was not a possibility,
but being in rock country, glorious rocks are at no shortage. The first
location we used had sandy formations of orange red
to climb on, and I was ecstatic. As we drove
to the next location I was like a hyper puppy with her head out the window
wanting to jump out at every
bend in the
road as the rocks changed in color and form and I saw glorious shooting
opportunities almost everywhere. But appropriate turn outs for the car were
needed, and we had a few other locations to reach before the sun reached her
peak. We were headed to a huge, round rock that never manifested, but memories
of roads in the vastness of the desert are not always spot on, so we found a
new location instead. A ranger waved to us as we pulled over and out of our
cars, in a spot where there would be shade and perfectly warm bounced light to
work with. We had one more stop afterwards, a slot canyon which was much too
illuminated to use, and had a couple of visitors. Instead, we walked along a
dry creek and I convinced Ken that we needed to take some photos there, before
both deciding that even hunger had priority over more daringness.
I'm a bit of a dry bush/tree fanatic
(overly bright slot canyon)
A turkey BLT sandwich and coleslaw later, and we
were on our winding way through a long detour
of a road in an area full of pine trees, much to my surprise. Shooting at the
Devil’s Spine would have been excellent, but the light was horrid and all we
managed to do was a snapshot for mom. At lunch we did not indulge in pie, and I
have a feeling ice cream may be my dinner of champions for the night. A sugar
crash to get to bed early would not be such a bad thing as I want to catch the
magical morning tomorrow for another productive day of artistic play in the
majestic playground that is the desert.
Cheers
to my dessert in the desert!
(Annotation – I never did have that icecream for dinner, but
my quest for high quality dessert kept me motivated until I saw a healthy,
smoked trout salad option available for dinner, and quickly changed my mind.)
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