I love curves. They’re far more interesting than straight lines. Nature abhors a square, after all. Think about it. A path through the woods or canyon is so much more intriguing when you can’t see what is coming around the next bend. It’s tantalizing. The anticipation and curiosity build, drawing you irresistibly onwards, like iron to a magnet.
Don’t you wonder what’s around the next bend?
There’s something feminine about curves. They exemplify cooperation, going with the flow instead of forging straight ahead. They teach us that compromise is not losing, that sharing space and allowing for a little give and take can help everything thrive and grow.
Curves are strong. There’s strength in flexibility. That’s another lesson they teach us, how to bend and not to break.
Arches National Park
Cultivate your curves – they may be dangerous but they won’t be avoided.
Often life throws us curves. If we’re not ready for them, they can be dangerous. We can’t see what’s coming for us around the next bend and we approach it way too quickly. The curves of life can send us spinning out of control, sometimes sending us crashing and burning.
But if we’ve learned those lessons, about flexibility and cooperation, about going with the flow and being open about what we might find around the next bend, the curves life throws us can be opportunities, chances for us to grow. Embrace your curves! Bend, don’t break.
Have you ever taken a photograph and when you looked at it later, you couldn’t figure out what attracted you to the scene? If that ever happens to you, the answer might be to move in closer. This week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is Close and Closer. For this week’s challenge, I decided to use some examples from Death Valley.
Golden Canyon is beautiful. But what is it that makes it so special?
In the feature shot, I moved in a little closer to the rock layers in the walls of Golden Canyon, creating a much more satisfying photograph of what really attracted me to the scene, the sculpted shapes and pastel colors of the canyon walls.
In the above gallery, I have a few images of Mosaic Canyon. I moved in closer on the upper center image by cropping. The left and right images were made by moving closer and zooming in. I was intrigued by the colors and textures of the rock layers that made up Mosaic Canyon. In this selection though, I don’t necessarily think closer is better, it’s just different perspectives and I like them all.
When it comes to flowers, though, closer is usually better.
With flowers, though, in my experience, closer is usually better unless you are going for the image of the whole field of flowers. The above gallery is a good example of that.
For this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge, let’s get wild! I’m talking about Mother Nature untouched and untrammelled, allowed to get on with her work without human help or hindrance.
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.”
Rachel Carson
Everyone can find some wild to get close to in their life, even if it’s only a flower.
Maybe you’re lucky and have access to some truly wild landscapes. Perhaps you’re not. But give her a chance, and Nature will break free and get wild wherever we let her! Even if your only access to the natural world is the local park, you will certainly find something wild in your world. It could be a bird migrating through on its way north and south, or a wildflower springing up on an empty lot.
I don’t want to see groomed gardens or animals in the zoo. No people or signs of people. I want to see and revel in the natural world in your posts. Where’s the wildest place you’ve ever been? Where do you go to let Mother Nature regenerate your spirit? Please share with us the wild places, plants and beings that are close to YOUR heart!
“But love of the wilderness is more than a hunger for what is always beyond reach; it is also an expression of loyalty to the earth which bore us and sustains us, the only home we shall ever know, the only paradise we ever need – if only we had eyes to see.”
Edward Abbey
Life in the Wrangells, gateway to the wilderness
The natural world is my passion in life, and I love to share it. A long time ago I decided the most important goal in my life was to wake in beauty every day. Because I’ve made that a priority, I’m more fortunate than most when it comes to being close to nature. With a telephoto lens, this is the view from my bedroom window.
The price for that view is no running water or indoor toilets, and the hard work and logistical challenges of attempting to maintain an off-the-grid homestead. But it’s a price I’m happy to pay, because every morning when I wake up, the angels sing!
I live in the center of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve in Alaska, one of the biggest protected wildernesses on the planet. But these days I usually snowbird it and go south in the winter. There are too many beautiful places in the world to spend your life in just one, no matter how wonderful that one is.
I migrate, like the birds.
I used to be a ranger in Death Valley National Park, which has more wilderness than any other national park outside Alaska. Pretty easy to find the wild there.
A nameless canyon in Death Valley National Park
My favorite way to get next to the wild is to get up close and personal with wildflowers. Drop down to their level. Breathe in their fragrance. Get out a magnifying glass to really check out the intricacies of the tiny flowers. Revel in their beauty, but don’t pick them. Leave them living, so others will have a chance to appreciate them, too. I spend March and April most years following the wildflower bloom, first in the desert…
And then catching the spring flowers in the Sierras and Oregon on my way back to Alaska.
And then there’s the sea. Another way to get close to the wild in the world. I have really fallen in love with the seashore in the last few years. What could be wilder than the ocean?
The ocean is so wild it’s like another planet!
“Wilderness is not only a haven for native plants and animals but it is also a refuge from society. It’s a place to go to hear the wind and little else, see the stars and the galaxies, smell the pine trees, feel the cold water, touch the sky and the ground at the same time, listen to coyotes, eat the fresh snow, walk across the desert sands, and realize why it’s good to go outside of the city and the suburbs.”
John Muir
We need to learn to share!
Wild places are important because we need to learn to share our planet with everything else that calls it home. It does not belong to us exclusively, although we all too often act like it does.
Wild places are also important because they rejuvenate our souls. Wilderness is essential to our mental health. What a sad world it would be if we had no wilderness. Celebrate the wild in the world this summer, and please protect it wherever you may find it!
“…the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear. UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”
Dr. Seuss
Celebrate and care for the wild in your world!
Please join me in this Lens-Artists Photo Challenge and share the wild in your world. Remember to use the lens-artists tag and include a link to my original post.
Next week, Patti will be offering LAPC #151, so be sure to check out her site then! Her theme is From Large to Small. Pick a color and take several photos that feature that color. Start with a photo of a big subject in that color (for example, a wall) and move all the way down to a small subject in that same color (for example, an earring).
Thank you to Tina, Amy, Ann-Christine and Patti for inviting me to host this challenge. It’s wonderful to be part of the Lens-Artists community and I look forward to seeing all your wonderful wild posts this week.
The very first time I saw Death Valley the first thought that popped into my head was “Boy, but this is a barren landscape!” But right on the heels of that thought came a second, this one attached to a sense of wonder – But Oh! The colors!
I called this viewpoint “Better than Zabriskie”. It was my personal meditation spot. Only a ten-minute walk from the road and less than half a mile from world-famous and hopelessly crowded Zabriskie Point, I found it while exploring a little wrinkle in the landscape and was the only one that knew it was there. A great place for solitude on a busy holiday weekend!
So this week I’d like to share a different kind of rock art with you, Mother Nature’s masterpieces. I’m going to get a little artsy-fartsy and share some abstract photography, portraits of those fantastic colors, patterns and texture that can be found in every corner of the national park.
A glimpse of the Last Chance Range
I’m convinced that every color of the rainbow can be found somewhere in Death Valley’s rocks. I’m so convinced that when I was a ranger there, I played a little game as an icebreaker, to slow my visitors down on my Nameless Canyon hikes and sharpen their powers of observation. I picked up a random assortment of paint sample chips at the hardware store. I included lots of variety – purples, blues, yellows, pinks, browns, tans, greys – no two colors exactly the same. It was a big box hardware store. I got LOTS of paint chips.
Pinks and greens and yellows…
Then I cut them all to a uniform size and put them in a bag. Each hiker had to blindly thrust their hand in the bag and pull out three paint chips, then find its EXACT match in the landscape we traveled through.
It’s not only the colors, it’s the patterns and textures that make Death Valley’s rocks so fascinating.
There was a lot of eye-rolling and exclamations of “I’ll never find THIS color!” I did end up removing 2 or 3 shades of blue and one particular red chip. True black was a surprisingly difficult color to find. But nearly every time, each hiker would eventually find all 3 of their colors, no matter what they picked out of the bag.
Orange is the predominant color at Ubehebe Crater. Although the crater was formed by volcanic action, this orange rock, surprisingly enough, is sedimentary.
Some areas are more colorful than others, world famous for their colors, it’s true. But even the hills that look a uniform baked brown from the road reveal their loveliness in the layers and shades you will find if you get a little closer.
The shimmery glow of “candle drippings” in the Kit Fox Hills. Candle drippings are mineral runoff on the canyon walls that sometimes builds up into elaborate patterns, Mother Nature’s tapestries.
When you delve deeper, all those colors, layers and patterns reveal a plethora of geologic events and eras. If only the rocks could talk, what stories they could tell!
Noonday Dolomite, the “marble” that makes Mosaic Canyon such a fun hike!
So it doesn’t matter if it hasn’t rained all year. It doesn’t matter if it’s a poor flower year, or the wrong season. You can visit this national park and still see a brilliant display of color, because Death Valley rocks!
Crazy swirly mountainside in the Funeral Mountains
Thank you, Ann-Christine, for bringing us this week’s Lens-Artist’s Photo Challenge, “You Pick It”. Also thanks to Tina for the art inspiration and Amy for the desert rocks inspiration.
Beautiful warped and twisted stone from Monarch Canyon in the Funeral Mountains
A rain event in Death Valley is a very unusual occurrence. After all, it IS the driest place in North America. With only about 2 inches of precipitation a year, rainstorms don’t happen very often. Rain events are even rarer.
I worked at Death Valley for 8 winter/spring seasons. In that time, I witnessed 2 rain events.
Standing at the mouth of Titus Canyon watching the first rainstorm of February 2010 come in over the Panamints
A rain event is much more than just a rainstorm. it has long-lasting repercussions. It can totally transform a landscape, and those transformations are part of the event. These are indeed special moments.
Badwater Salt Flats after the first storm
My first rain event was in 2010. During the winter of 2009/2010, it didn’t rain at all. All the oldtimers said it would be a poor flower year that spring. Too dry.
I spent a lot of time hiking the sand dunes that February because there were many times that the canyons were too dangerous. It rained and rained and rained.
Then February came, and with it, a series of Pineapple Express storms. A Pineapple Express is an atmospheric river formed above the ocean waters near Hawaii. Coming from the south, they dodge the high Sierras, leaving them with plenty of water to dump on Death Valley. We got 3 storms in a row. That February we received an inch and a half of rain. It was the rainiest February in Death Valley’s history.
The sand dunes were transformed into a desert oasis.
It was so wet that pools formed in the sand dunes, the only time I ever saw that happen. It looked like a true desert oasis.
Alpenglow on the Grapevine Mountains reflected in an ephemeral pool
The biggest change, though, was the Badwater Salt Flats. The salt flats were transformed into a lake, filled with about 7 inches of water for miles in every direction. There was so much water a friend went kayaking just for the photo op. With all the fresh snow on the Panamints, this symbol of the driest of deserts became almost alpine in appearance.
The lake at Badwater – deep enough to kayak.
The oldtimers still predicted a poor flower year, though. They said the rain came too late and there wouldn’t be time for the tender seedlings to get a good start before it became too hot.
They were wrong.
2010 turned out to be a good flower year after all.
My second rain event was the big one, a historic one, the great flood event of Sunday, October 17, 2015. It destroyed half the highways in the park. Scotty’s Castle is still closed due to this rainstorm.
It was literally my first day back to the park for the season. I needed to go to Pahrump, the nearest town, 60 miles away, to stock up since I was just moving in. It had been raining off and on for 2 days. My boss told me to be careful, there was flash flooding down by Death Valley Junction.
Badwater in early December 2015
I made it through the water at that low spot alright, but that afternoon the storms came back in with a vengeance. I could hear the radio reports as I shopped, the calamitous beeping that heralded a severe weather alert. When I walked outside, I could see the blackest sky ever out towards the Northwest, contrasting sharply with the brilliant flashes of dozens of lightning strikes.
I tried to hurry home. Things were starting to look serious. I knew I had to hustle to make it before the road was closed at Death Valley Junction. It had started raining, hard, and the thunder and lightning to the Northwest was truly something to behold. A light show, Fourth of July fireworks! I’ve never seen so many lightning strikes. I thought to myself that I was glad I wasn’t at Scotty’s Castle. Things looked really bad in that direction.
Storm over Death Valley Buttes
But they were bad enough where I was. Would I make it in time? The road started to get sketchy. I could see the edges crumbling and I knew for safety’s sake I had to try a different route. They closed that highway less than 10 minutes after I turned around. More than the edges had crumbled.
I thought I’d go the long way around, up north towards Beatty. I was stopped by the sheriff. That road was out, too. I ended up spending the night with a friend, a woman I worked with who lived in Pahrump.
Badwater Road and Telescope Peak January 2016
We headed out in caravan to reach the park early the next morning, in radio contact with the park maintenance crew. There was one route that just might work. There was lots of water running on the road as we crossed washes. One crossing was doubtful. I could feel my little truck slow down and threaten to stall out. I was really glad we were caravaning. In hindsight, I wouldn’t cross water like that again. Within half an hour of when we went through, that road closed, too. But we made it.
The October monthly precipitation average for Death Valley is .07 inches. Death Valley received 1.3 inches of rain in October 2015, nearly all of it from the October 17 storm. That storm caused a lot of destruction to man-made structures and roads. But it also made some amazing changes to the landscape.
Imagine the ground growing thick like this with flowers – everywhere – for miles upon miles
Of course, Badwater Basin once again filled with water. No kayaking this time, though. By the time the road crew had cleared and repaired the road as far as Badwater the water levels were already down too far for that. Mud and debris flows trashed the Badwater Road. The southern part of the road was completely destroyed, the pavement twisted and shredded.
The change that impressed me the most, though, was at Artist’s Drive. A debris flow had completely inundated the main canyon, filling it brim to brim and splashing ten to twelve feet up the walls in places. This layer of mud is now a permanent part of Death Valley’s geological record, a layer of rock that will still show up thousands of years from now. I love to see geology happen!
The main wash in Artist’s Drive filled brim to brim, overflowing with mud from the debris flow.
And then, starting as early as the end of December, the flowers came out. And continued to come out, month after month, all the way to May. They were so thick on the ground you couldn’t take a step without trampling a flower. And they were all supersized, too.
For instance, Desert Five-Spot is usually a shy flower; the plant grows about 6 inches high, with only a few blossoms on each plant. In dry years, it will dwarf into a tiny belly flower only an inch or two high with one blossom. But during the 2016 Death Valley superbloom, I found a veritable plantation of five-spot bushes, all about 3 feet high with dozens of blossoms. One plant had 53 flowers! What a difference a little rain makes!
Desert 5-spot
Although the Artist’s Drive debris flow was the most thrilling change for me intellectually, the wildflower bloom is what struck my heart. It was the ultimate of all the special moments I’ve experienced in my Death Valley rain events.
Art exhibits by Mother Nature – abstracts composed of soft, sensuous, sculpted curves – ephemeral, ever-changing sand dunes. When I saw that Ann-Christine had chosen “soft” as the theme for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, the graceful contour of a sand dune was the first image to come to mind.
When I worked at Death Valley, I got to know sand dunes well. Although only about 1% of Death Valley is covered with dunes, the sand has captured the public imagination and become the iconic symbol of Death Valley to many. The park has 5 major dune fields and a couple of minor ones as well.
Soft, sculpted lines of a sand dune
I learned that even though some dune fields may look similar, each one is unique, with its own ecosystem. Since the dune fields are separated by many many miles of other types of habitat, they may have endemic plants or animals that live nowhere else. Each one is worth a visit.
Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes
The Mesquite Flat dunes are the ones that most people think of when it comes to Death Valley. It’s the largest dune field in the park, and the easiest to get to, right off the highway. Mesquite hummocks harbor an interesting assortment of wildlife. It’s a great place to look for tracks. Go early in the morning for the best insights into the lives of the creatures that come out and play at night after all the tourists are gone. Then beat the crowds and hike up to the top of the tallest dune. Take your shoes off and feel that soft, soft sand, walking barefoot for the final approach. This is another reason to get an early start. The sand can get HOT later.
Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes
The Mesquite Dunes are the best dunes in the park for sunrise and sunset photography. I love these dunes and their firm yet soft sands for meditation and yoga, too. I have a couple of spots I’m fond of that are easy to get to but a bit off the beaten track, for when I need to get away from the crowds of visitors for some alone time.
Mesquite Dunes are a great place to go at night, too. Stargazing there is phenomenal, and nothing beats a full moon hike in the dunes. You might even see some of the critters that leave those footprints behind. Be aware in the warmer months that some of those critters are sidewinders. Look for their weird J-shaped tracks to see if they’re up and about yet when you go.
Go early in the morning to look for tracks.
Saline Valley Dunes
This is the smallest and the lowest of the major dune fields. It has the whitest sand. It’s my least favorite. That’s probably because I have not spent enough time there to get to know them well. I’ve only visited once. It was a windy day, so I couldn’t take many pictures. I was only there an hour when a major sandstorm blew in. I saw it coming and fled.
By the time I reached the crest of the valley, it turned into a real haboob, zero visibility, the kind of sandstorm you see in movies about the Sahara. That may have colored my impression of these dunes.
Patterns in the sand – Saline Valley Dunes
The Saline Dunes are in the difficult to reach Saline Valley. Except on those rare occasions when the road has been recently graded, you will need 4-wheel drive to get there.
Eureka Dunes
The Eureka Dunes contain the tallest sand dune in California, literally a mountain of sand. These sands are special, too. The Eureka Dunes are singing dunes. When the moisture content is just right any vibration – from a hiker’s footprint to a strong gust of wind – may set off a low, rhythmic rumbling throughout the dune, growing and building.
Eureka Dunes – the tallest dune in California
It sounds a bit like a jet engine. But it just may be a real jet engine. Hotshot pilots from the China Lake Naval Base play in the airspace above the Eureka Valley, occasionally flying very low.
The Eureka Dunes harbor an amazing little plant kingdom, including three endemic plants that live nowhere else. The showiest of these plants is the Eureka Primrose. In a good year, the lower reaches of the dune field may be carpeted with these flowers. Alas, I’ve never gotten the timing right to catch that.
Looking down the dune field at Eureka
Part of the reason is the road. Sometimes it’s just high clearance, but at other times all that sand creates some of the worst washboard in the park. It’s far away from everywhere, too, taking many hours of driving whether you come in from the east or the west. This is not a day trip! If you do make it in, there’s a great little primitive camping area with a pit toilet and fire rings available at the base of the tallest dune.
Panamint Dunes
You have to work for this one, but it’s well worth it. There are 5 miles of rough, high clearance dirt road back road to traverse to get near these dunes. And once you get those 5 miles in, you still have a 3-mile hike to reach them. These obstacles keep the Panamint Dunes quiet and untrammeled, some of the best dunes in the park. There may be some beautiful and unusual flowers on the approach, too. I’ve found Lilac Sunbonnets and Broomrape, two of my favorites that I seldom get a chance to see.
Panamint Dunes
Ibex Dunes
They’re not the biggest, or the tallest, or the most popular, but these dunes are my personal favorite. Another high clearance road that can sometimes be 4-wheel drive gets you close, but anyway you look at it you’ve got to hike in a mile to reach these dunes.
It’s a beautiful hike. The Ibex Dunes are full of life. One of the inhabitants is the rare and endangered Mojave Fringe-Toed Lizard. Look for sand verbena and paper-bag bush in the springtime.
Because of the fragile ecosystems, motor vehicle use is prohibited on all of Death Valley’s dunes. The wind may blow your tracks away, but it won’t bring back the plants and animals damaged by your vehicle. So go to nearby Dumont Dunes or Big Dune if you want to tear it up with your dune buggy or dirt bike.
Soft and forgiving, dunes are a wonderful place to explore and play, a great place to bring the kids or commune with the Great All. Check them out the next time you’re in the desert or at the seashore!
