Detail of a canyon wall with tilted sedimentary rocks and fossils, Death Valley National Park.
These rocks tell a story, a profound one no doubt, but also one that this non-geologist is incapable of fully comprehending. But I do know a few things, and with that bit of knowledge and the time to observe, I can report that there is a lot to think about in places like this and, for that matter, the entirety of Death Valley National Park. A difference between this landscape and most others with which I’m familiar is that here it is almost entirely exposed rather than being hidden underneath forests and snow.
As I understand it, the course of many of the rocks here is sedimentary — they were formed under ancient seas. (Portions of the valley were submerged much more recently, and that shorter tale is visible, too, in places.) Those sediments sometimes captured creatures that became fossilized, as we see in the black spots in the rocks of this photograph. Then various geological forces lifted, tilted, fractured, and contorted these layers over a vast span of time. In many places in the park the strata are inclined upward as they progress to the west. Here one of the inclined rock bands contains colors that are the exception rather than the rule in this national park.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
Complex patterns in sandstone formations at Zion National Park
I’m certainly no geologist, but that doesn’t keep me from being somewhat amazed by the fantastical and convoluted shapes and conjunctions in this little detail of cross-bedded sandstone photographed in the Zion National Park high country. As I understand it, these rocks originated in sand that was laid down, perhaps as dunes, in the distant past. For a variety of reasons, layers that originally tilted one direction ended up butted up against or nudging into layers tilting in radically different directions. My untrained eyes count a number of such layers in this small bit of rock. Overlaid on this are eroding flakes, cracks, bits of vegetation, lichen, and more – and all of it on this intensely colorful Southwest rock.
I am not certain precisely where this bit of geology was photographed, beyond recalling that it was along the Mount Carmel Highway through Zion National Park and that the photograph was made in shaded and diffused light. I am not only intrigued by the disjunct lines and angles of the underlying rock here, but also by odd features such as the big curve running across the middle of the frame and the subtle differences in the coloration of the rock – in places it is quite pink, verging on redness, while in others it is almost somewhat purple.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist whose subjects include the Pacific coast, redwood forests, central California oak/grasslands, the Sierra Nevada, California deserts, urban landscapes, night photography, and more. Blog | About | Flickr | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px.com | LinkedIn | Email
The red autumn leaves of a small tree contrast with the angles and layers of a curving sandstone slot canyon, Zion National Park
One of the most intriguing things about slot canyons – among many intriguing things – is the surprising variety of things to be seen as you progress through them. While the basic idea might seem somewhat consistent – e.g. narrow canyon with tall walls and water in the bottom – the details of the canyons seem amazing diverse and they change from moment to moment and bend to bend. This first really made sense to me in a canyon in the Escalante area where we entered by walking down a very wide and flat wash. Gradually a low sandstone “curb” began to appear along the sides of the wash and almost before I knew it this had grown to become a wall. Shortly the bottom of the canyon narrowed so much that we had to rise out of it and walk along side until we got to a point where we could again drop down into it, and it was now deep enough to cut off much of the direct light from overhead.
The slot in this photograph is in Zion National Park, and to be honest I not entirely certain where it was outside of a sort of general area. As we walked through it – and it was not a long canyon – it twisted along the base of a cliff wall and at this spot there was almost no visible vegetation except for the red leaves of one small autumn tree poking out from behind the thickly striated and twisted rock of the canyon side walls.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist whose subjects include the Pacific coast, redwood forests, central California oak/grasslands, the Sierra Nevada, California deserts, urban landscapes, night photography, and more. Blog | About | Flickr | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px.com | LinkedIn | Email
The Colorado River winds through rugged country beyond the White Rim, Canyonlands National Park
On our second visit to Canyonlands National Park (the first had been back in April of the same year, when we briefly visited the “Island in the Sky” highlands of the park) we were somewhat stymied by less than astonishing light. Overall the skies were sort of partly cloudy, but that “partly” portion seemed to line up almost perfectly with where we were, and from afternoon on a large mass of clouds sat above us and to the west. For this photograph, that might have actually been a bit of a blessing, in that trying to photograph the tremendously intricate and detailed landscape visible from the “Grand View” overlook in full sun at this time of day would have been challenging, to say the least. This landscape, lit that way, would have contained some extremely bright features along with very deep shadows in the canyons, and the result probably would not have been all that great. The clouds, however, somewhat mute the contrasty light, making the bright areas a bit less bright and allowing diffused light down into areas that would otherwise be dark. At least there was a bit of light on the buttes in the far distance at the upper edge of the frame.
This scene is one of those “iconic” views that, well, everyone photographs. Generally, I’m not that much about photographing icons. In fact, often when I go to places like this I try to not know what the iconic shots are or where to find them, preferring to instead just sort of guess, follow hunches, poke around, and see what I discover. This may not be the most effective way to find the “cool stuff” in a new location, but it does let me start to develop my own relationship with a landscape from the very beginning. So when we went into Canyonlands the first time I basically had almost no idea what I was “supposed” to see and photograph. (For example, I had no idea that iconic “Mesa Arch” is in this park – drove past the road to it and said, “Ah, that’s where Mesa Arch is!” And, no, I did not photograph it.) However, as we wandered about and looked at stuff, we somehow managed to end up at several of “those places” – especially the Green River overlook (which I now recognize as one of the iconic views of this park) and Grand View. In addition, I’ve often advised others to not eschew icons in certain situations. One, of course, is when you find yourself in front of such an icon and have never photographed it before. But another is when one visits a location for the first time and does not yet have a deeper knowledge of the place. For example, I’ll occasionally get asked by first time visitors to Yosemite or Death Valley (places where I shoot a lot) about where the “secret spots” are that not everyone shoots. I tell them that getting to know a place to such an extent that you can find, “see,” understand and photograph the non-iconic subjects is not a reasonable goal for a first visit. Often that takes many visits, perhaps in different seasons, and the time to let the place “get under your skin” to the point that you have a real feel for it.* But everyone has to start somewhere, and photographing icons is a fine place to start when you are new to a place. They are, after all, usually quite spectacular spots – as I say, “They are icons for a reason.”
*For my part, during my first year photographing in Utah I spent over 30 days there during three long visits. It wasn’t until well into the third visit that I really began to feel that I was moving past the “Oh, wow, Utah!” state and starting to really understand the place.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist whose subjects include the Pacific coast, redwood forests, central California oak/grasslands, the Sierra Nevada, California deserts, urban landscapes, night photography, and more. Blog | About | Flickr | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px.com | LinkedIn | Email
