Cottonwood trees and other fall color along the bottom of a river canyon, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument
I made this photograph a few years back on a beautiful autumn day when a small group of friends walked down a river canyon, exploring and photographing the river, the vegetation, and the rocky walls. Direct sunlight does not reach the bottom of these canyons most of the time, especially during the times of the year when the sun’s path is lower in the sky and the daylight hours are shorter. Instead, the light strikes the upper walls, bouncing back and forth, diffusing and picking up the color of rocks and fall leaves as it makes its way downwards. If you look, you can see it in this photograph — in the glow on the canyon wall, the saturated colors of the leaves, and the light making its way into shadows.
Such canyons are wonderful places to go if you want to be cut off from the rest of the world. The landscape above the canyons is often relatively bare, perhaps dry and flat with occasional junipers. But none of that flat land world is visible once you are down in the canyon, where cottonwoods and brush spring up along the creek and every bend promises something new an interesting.
This is another multi-photograph post — in this one I share four photographs from the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument that feature trees in various back-country landscapes ranging from the canyons and rock formations to one otherwise perhaps un-notable stop near a campsite where I stayed.
Colorful autumn foliage on a cottonwood tree next to a creek at the bottom of a deep sandstone canyon
This stout cottonwood tree grows in the wash at the bottom of this deep canyon, at the base of huge sandstone walls that tower above and wrap around curves in the canyon’s path. I had stopped here to photograph a different tree — it is among those shared in this group — and after finishing with that tree I looked over here to see this one standing against the worn and curving rock shapes at the base of the canyon walls.
Fractured and sandstone canyon walls arch above a cottonwood tree with fall foliage
This is one of two photographs of this tree that I like. (The other is a in portrait orientation, and may give a better sense of the trees size and the relative scale of the huge sandstone canyon wall.) The tree grows in the bottom of the wash and right up against the canyon walls, with several arch shapes in the sandstone creating a sort of frame for it.
A solitary oak tree grows from a crack in Utah sandstone
This photograph comes with a bit of a personal story. In the morning we (a group of six photographers) had departed our camp on foot to hike down a nearby wash and drop into a deeper canyon. Although the morning began well, with a pleasant walk down the wash, followed by some exploration as we tried to find a good way to drop into the deeper canyon, I suddenly developed a knee problem — I decided to remain behind as the group went on. I walked back to camp, making photographs along the way, and then drove to some other places along our gravel road looking for other subjects. In the late afternoon I returned to camp, though no one else had yet returned. So I decided to do a bit of exploring near camp, and I ended up at the base of a sandstone face as the sun dipped behind mountains to the west — and I photographed this tree in the low light before heading back to camp.
On our first night together as a group in a back-country area of Utah we set up camp and then headed out to photograph something as the evening approached. We drove, ending up at a spot where large sandstone formations are backed by an even larger area of smooth sandstone surfaces, interrupted by potholes and other features. At one point we were in one of those locations where the number of obvious photographic subjects was limited — basically, there was a beautiful pothole with a true and there was this old snag. With six photographers, interesting questions arise. Do we all shoot the same subject? If one person shoots it first, is it OK for the next to photograph from the same angle? How could we each take this common subject and do something different with it? I initially resolved to not shoot this snag, but a bit later I came back and gave in to temptation! ;-)
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
A box elder tree stands against the vertical sandstone walls of a Utah slot canyon
Near the beginning of this late-October photographic trip in Utah, we visited a long canyon, slot-like in places, in the southern reaches of Utah in the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. Although I had been is small sections of little slot canyons before, this was actually the first time I ventured up a desert canyon like this one (with the exception of some in Death Vally) that had a creek running up the bottom, steep sandstone walls, and plenty of cottonwoods, box elders, and other typical plants. We started in a more or less flat area outside the canyon, waded up a section of the creek to enter the canyon, and spent the next few hours exploring and making photographs.
I have a thing about trees standing in front of rock walls, and among the mental images I was carrying as we went to the Southwest were several with that theme. I was actually thinking more about trees with fall colors, but in this particular canyon there was a still a lot of green foliage – and I liked the somewhat unusual combination of the leaves’ lime green and the pinkish, almost purple coloration of the rock in the soft reflected canyon light.
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
Autumn oak and box elder leaves lie on the pink sand in the bottom of a wash, Zion National Park
The thing that most often first catches my attention in the bottom of slot canyons, such as this small one in the Zion National Park high country, is the way that they twist between closely spaced vertical walls. There is virtually nothing quite like this in our experience. But the thing I notice first is not necessarily the thing I remember most. I often wonder how others might regard my photographs, since I know that they cannot share the full context of the images that I know from being in these places. (I’ve often said that we, as the photographers, are perhaps the least able to see our own work objectively, since we cannot easily put aside these non-photographic things that are no longer present in the purely visual medium within which we work.) When I think of these canyons I think of the sound, often deadened by the sand and perhaps by vegetation, and of the feeling of the air, which always different from the feeling of the air outside the canyon – most often cooler when the “outside” air is warm but also warmer when the canyon provides shelter from cool-season winds. And it those canyons with water flowing through them, there is the constant, though often gentle sound of water flowing and trickling.
I also usually end up slowing down and looking at many small things that might not first be seen – the leftover pattern of water than may have flowed through weeks or months earlier, place where the sand has been marked by the passage of a small animal or by grass moving across its surface in the breeze, the mixture of rocks that must have come from distant places, plants growing in odd cracks in the rock, patterns in the rock walls, the passage from one rock layer to another, and more. On this fall day it had been windy and lots of autumn “stuff” was littering the canyon floor, which here was pink sandstone sand, further colored by the glowing light reflected from the red rock canyon walls.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer 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
Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.
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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 and Amazon.
