Antelope Passageway

Deep within the Navajo Nation there lies a completely unremarkable desert landscape. Nothing–absolutely nothing–seems any different than any other part of the surrounding desert, and all is quiet. Upon a slight mound is a slight crevasse; again nothing unusual here. And leading up to the small crevasse (which is, after all, just a few feet wide) is a completely normal wash.

But should one walk up the wash they will discover that it leads to a very remarkable slot canyon hidden in the desert–Antelope Canyon. And as the passageway of the slot canyon is breached absolute magic cascades all around you. The colors, texture, patterns and even the form of the canyon’s walls are beyond compare. Depending on the time of the day and year, the colors can range from brown to yellow to orange to red to purple, and often, all these colors, and more, all at once.

Antelope Canyon is a wonderful reminder of the beauty of this world, for that beauty can be found in the most unexpected places at the most unexpected times, if only one looks around them. Take nothing for granted, for you never know what lies just before you; what magic and wonders abound, there for the looking.

Red Splash

Fall–the very word itself evokes emotion and thoughts of color. Often, the first colors that spring to mind are the oranges and yellows of the turning leaves. For after all, that’s the color they turn, right?

True enough, but not every leaf turns yellow or orange. Take the venerable maple, for example. Its leaves turn a wonderful, vivid and vibrant red and light up any forest they happen to be in. For example, this particular forest is in the heart of the Manzano Mountains, located in central New Mexico. Caught on a wonderful, crisp autumn day the leaves stand in stark contrast to the rest of the forest, and serve as a reminder that the rest of autumn is not far behind.

Nature is wonderful and complex in her glory. Sure, a single, solitary leaf turning color isn’t overwhelming, but when they all turn different colors at different times the myriad of color becomes amazing and breathtaking. When you contrast the reds against the greens, add in a splash of blue, you end up with a scene not unlike this one. And in any event you end up with nature’s display at its best.

This red splash is a reminder that fall is upon us.

Infernally Yours

The sun was just in a cranky mood. It had been a long day, what with the rain and all, and it had spent the entire day trying to fight through the rain clouds. Every time it thought it saw an opening, and tried to provide a bit of warmth and cheer, the rain clouds scuttled back in, thwarting every effort. In the end, it was just one of those days.

At the very end of the day, though, the rain clouds decided to pack it in a bit early (their day had been a darn good one, after all, and they figured they would reward themselves just a bit), leaving the sun just the barest of all opportunities. And it took that… with a vengeance! It was really quite mad at this point and as it slipped below the horizon its full rage could be seen by all. The colors were absolutely amazing and staggering and the rain clouds quickly regretted the decision to block the sun that day.

This image was taken from the top of Sandia Crest in Sandia Mountains in New Mexico. Truly, the entire sunset was beyond compare, and the reds and yellows in it were intense, to say the least. The clouds reflected the dying sun’s light in every direction and for a moment–just a brief moment–this is what it looked like. And before you knew it, the sun slipped fully below the horizon leaving all in darkness.

The sun made a last gasp and without warning dove behind the distant mountain. The world wasn’t quite ready to see it go, but the sun was done for the day and it was time for it to go home. The clouds were caught wholly unprepared and their myriad colors bore witness to their outrage at being left alone so quickly. For after all, the sun was not supposed to go quickly, but rather with plenty of fair warning. The clouds glowered, and vowed to stay lit all night long, if need be, until the sun came back and apologized.

The tree, however, stood fast, for it had suspect that the sun was up to something sneaky; it lost its own color very quickly, welcoming the night with an inky blackness all its own.

And before anyone else could do much of anything about it, darkness claimed them all.

Reflection of Fall, originally uploaded by ifringe.

This particular subject has vexed me for the longest time. It has sat there, taunting me, calling to me, daring me to take a picture of it that looks even somewhat reasonable. Every time I pass by it I know, deep in my bones, that a picture lurks there, but I cannot get it. I go home thinking to myself “what if…what if…”

What is this object? Oddly, it’s a barn. Yes, a barn. And old barn to be sure (and because it is old it has a lot of experience with photographer types. It’s a old wily barn). A barn that sits there and simply refuses to be photographed in any meaningful fashion. The problem with this particular barn is that it is red (mostly), weatherbeaten (a lot) and has a ton of really cool features that ought to make a cool picture.

But Sunday I had a plan. I snuck up on the barn in a roundabout way so it couldn’t see me coming. I crept as quietly as I could, making no sound. And then, I popped up from behind a shrub, focused not on the barn itself, but rather the reflection in its window and grabbed this particular picture.

Sure, you can say that technically I did not actually take a picture of the barn. But, the barn frames out the window and reflection rather nicely, I think, and through the window we see the last vestiges of fall.