Evening Cows, Coconino County

Cattle at sunset amongst the volcanic cinder cones at the northern edge of the San Francisco Volcanic Field, north of Flagstaff, Arizona.

Mountain Ranch in January, Northern Arizona

[Photo: Morning, Pittman Valley and Sitgreaves Mountain, Coconino County, Arizona.
Click on image for larger version.]

Snowy scenery on a still, frozen winter morning in the Pittman Valley of northern Arizona. Coyote tracks are the first visible sign on the snow's surface after a winter storm passed through.

In the distance is the long, lumpy form of Sitgreaves Mountain, an extinct lava dome volcano.

Between Parks and Williams, Coconino County, Arizona.

Frozen Tracks, Winter Sunrise, Pittman Valley, Arizona

[Photo: Sunrise snowscape and Sitgreaves Mountain, Arizona.
Click on image for larger version.]

Wouldn't it be wonderful to live in a winter landscape and never need a house, clothing, or money? Everything is available to the coyote and the other residents of wildlife. 

A frozen January sunrise brings blue shadows, bright snow shapes, and ethereal ground fog to a mountain meadow traversed by a few tracks during the night.
Pittman Valley, Coconino Plateau, west of Flagstaff, Arizona. At upper right is Sitgreaves Mountain.

Sunset Light, Antelope Hills

Early December "golden hour"  evening light on two of the old cinder cone volcanoes that are collectively called the Antelope Hills. These are on the Babbitt Ranches north of the San Francisco Peaks and Flagstaff, in northern Arizona.

The summer's grasses and forbs have long since turned straw yellow, warming up nicely with the low angle of the sun. Some nice clouds accented the trademark Arizona blue sky.

Also see my Grand Canyon Photography Blog!

The (Full) Serenity Prayer

Sunrise Colors and San Francisco Peaks, Pittman Valley, Northern Arizona

God, grant us the... 

Serenity to accept things we cannot change, 

Courage to change the things we can, and the 

Wisdom to know the difference 

Patience for the things that take time 

Appreciation for all that we have, and 

Tolerance for those with different struggles 

Freedom to live beyond the limitations of our past ways, the 

Ability to feel your love for us and our love for each other and the 

Strength to get up and try again even when we feel it is hopeless. 

-- Reinhold Niebuhr

Rainbow Sunflowers, Flagstaff

Sunflowers and double rainbow, Flagstaff, northern Arizona

Monsoon season continues unabated here in northern Arizona. Sun and clouds and rain showers. The wildflowers are loving it. Smokey Bear is loving it (fire danger down to Moderate or less). I'm loving it.

This evening on my way home, a giant double rainbow appeared to the east of Interstate 17. I was able to maneuver myself into a spot on the edge of a convenience store parking lot where I could put some sunflowers in the foreground.

Flagstaff, Arizona.

Arizona Meadow Daisies

Daisies in a mountain meadow, Coconino County, Arizona

August, 2012: Much of the U.S. is suffering from one of the worst droughts in memory.

Meanwhile, it's been wet in northern Arizona, of all places! Our late summertime monsoon season is in full swing, and we have been getting soaked with rain showers almost every day. Our springtime was typically sunny, windy, and dry, and the wildfire danger gradually raised to the Very High rating, prompting a ban on campfires. Even charcoal in grills. We went a near-record 65 straight days without precipitation after the snow melted. 

Finally, the monsoon season began. The moisture arrived from the Pacific Ocean, the clouds started to build each morning, and rain showers began. Blessed rain. Visitors from back East were puzzled to come to Arizona to be dodging rain storms and lightning. Sometimes hail, too. 

In this photo, I was exploring a small mountain meadow near Flagstaff, where I live. The daisies were in bloom, and the rich green grass of the meadow along the fringes of a small pond made for a vibrant background.

Arizona Monsoon Rainbow, Flagstaff

Double rainbow, clearing rain shower, Canyoneers river rafting office, Flagstaff, Arizona
(click on image for larger version)

We are presently in the heart of our late summer "monsoon" thunderstorm season here in northern Arizona. Moisture from the Pacific Ocean comes inland, and our hot weather and ample sunshine combine to form thunderhead clouds, which can cause very localized rain showers. 

Besides being the primary source of the Southwest's summertime precipitation, it's also a gorgeous time for photographers and nature lovers. Arizona blue sky, dramatic cumulus and thunderhead clouds, rain curtains, and sunshine can sometimes be seen all at once. Grass and other ground plants sprout, greening the forests and rangeland. 

And the rain showers usually are brief, though sometimes intense. They are what flash floods can be borne of.

Baby Acorns, Northern Arizona

Gambel Oak foliage and acorns, July 26

Tiny, growing acorns on a Gambel Oak tree in the Coconino National Forest near Flagstaff, Arizona.


Looks like this fall's acorn crop is coming along quite nicely. One of the beautiful, subtle joys of summer in the forest.

Dusk Cloud Colors, Flagstaff

Sunset time in northern Arizona. Summertime sunset time. 

I notice the pinks set against the clearing blue sky, and walk outside with my camera, searching for a composition. The Ponderosa pine trees in silhouette frame the rosy pink clouds nicely.

Cloud Light, Flagstaff, Arizona

Clouds lit up by the bright Arizona sunlight. Clouds blocking the sun, creating ephemeral shadows on the mountain slopes.

San Francisco Peaks, northern Arizona.

Northern Arizona Monsoon Season Approaches

Thunderhead cloud and Ponderosa pines, Flagstaff, Arizona

It's monsoon thunderstorm season here in northern Arizona, but with it being a La Nina weather pattern year, it's still dry. Far too dry. Extreme forest fires danger, but so far nothing like what's happened recently on the Colorado Front Range. 

This week there has at least been enough moisture inland from the Pacific Ocean to return some cumulus clouds, thunderheads, and very widely scattered showers. I love the clear blue Arizona sky, but cumulus clouds and t-heads accent it so beautifully.

Flagstaff, Arizona (where 85F is "hot"). 

Prickly Pear Blossoms

Prickly Pear Cactus Blossoms, Coconino National Forest, northern Arizona

You know it's finally summer at 7,000 feet in the cool mountain pine forests of northern Arizona when the prickly pear cactus plants blossom.


There aren't many of them up here in the Ponderosa forest. It must be at the very upper edge of their natural range. So, when I found these few, it was all the more special. I visit them at this time each year. Mid June. 


Coconino National Forest, north of Flagstaff, Arizona

Forest Fern, Evening Light

Fern, evening light, Coconino National Forest, Arizona [click on photo for larger version]

Nature is my cathedral, my church. Appreciation, respect, and humility are my religion.

This is from my campsite last evening on the Coconino National Forest and the Coconino Plateau, at about 7,500 feet in northern Arizona. A fern lit up by the low afternoon sunlight slipping between the Ponderosa pine trees. 


No neighbors except the birds and whatever four legged animals were around but did not make themselves apparent. 


No visitors except two Forest Service guys making sure I was not going to violate the ban on campfires, because the springtime woods have been so typically dry. "And don't leave any food outside the vehicle. There are bears here, and they're always hungry." That much I knew, but I appreciated the reminder. 


Followed by a peaceful night of the breeze whispering in the pines and aspens, then the rising half moon and the stars. Peaceful, soothing night. In the cathedral.

Jewel Rock, Red Mountain

"Jewel Rock", upheld by pinnacles in the amphitheater at Red Mountain

Erosion is the process wherein beautiful things are created as they fall apart.

The amphitheater at Red Mountain on the Coconino National Forest northwest of Flagstaff, Arizona is a perfect example. 

Red Mountain is a 1,000 foot tall cinder cone volcano created from a fiery crack in the earth about a million years ago. Some time later, its northeast flank blew out in another explosion, and its exposed innards have eroded into weird and wonderful pinnacles called "hoodoos".

In this photo, a harder boulder came to rest upon relatively softer material, which seem to be holding it up to the sky. It's like a diamond in its setting on a ring. 

Pueblo Ruins and O'Leary Peak

Box Canyon Pueblo Ruins, Wupatki National Monument, Arizona
(click on photo for a larger version)

A small pueblo ruin at Box Canyon on Wupatki National Monument in northern Arizona is warmed by the low early evening sunlight. 

In the far distance is the old lava dome volcano mountain named O'leary Peak.

Down the Wash, Red Mountain

Hiking down the wash from the volcanic amphitheater at Red Mountain, Coconino National Forest (click on image for a larger version)

Red Mountain on the Coconino National Forest north of Flagstaff, Arizona is a million year old, thousand foot tall cinder cone volcano. Was, that is.

The U.S. Forest Service trail that accesses the amphitheater on the east side of the mountain drops down into the wash that drains it, on the final approach. You hike right up the wash. It's not as if you're trampling any vegetation, because desert washes are so inhospitable to vegetation. Any significant rains above become flash floods, small or large. 

Besides, the steep, loose, ever-eroding volcanic soil slopes on either side could not support a trail anyway.

Afternoon Moon Over Cliffs, Red Mountain

Half Moon over Red Mountain Amphitheater Cliffs, Coconino National Forest, Arizona
(click on image for larger version)

Hiking today at Red Mountain on the Coconino National Forest north of Flagstaff, I noticed the moon almost half full, high in the afternoon sky.

That means: Full Moon is only about a week away. 

Sure enough, checking the calendar, it will occur on Monday, June 4, at 4:11 AM. So get up early to check it out, then let me know how it was. I'll still be sleeping. 

Why? Because I almost always get my best full moon landscape shots the night before Full Moon, or even two nights before. The upcoming Full Moon is a great case in point. It officially occurs at 4:11, which means that for all practical purposes it will look full on Sunday night when it rises at 19:08 (7:08 PM), near sunset time (19:36, or 7:36 PM). 

Saturday evening, two nights before official Full Moon, could well be even better, depending on what you choose to have in the foreground, such as a tall cityscape, mountain, cliff, etc. 

Chasing April Moonrise, Northern Arizona

Chasing April Moonrise

[Photo: Moonrise over Sunset Crater Volcano.
Click on image for larger version.]

The hunt for this month's Full Moon moonrise shots began last week on Tuesday, four days before the Full Moon on Friday. 

That's right: you have to get rolling early, or it will pass you by again for another month. Time, and the Full Moon, waits for no one.

That's especially true because there's this phenomenon known as "the weather". Even here in sunny Arizona, you just can't trust it. Especially around the Full Moon. 

[Photo: Moonrise over Sunset Crater.
Click on image for larger version.]

My favorite day of the month for shooting nature landscapes featuring the moonrise is the day before the Full Moon. Yes, one day early. Why? Because the Full Moon occurs at sunset, and by the time it clears what's on the eastern horizon (forests, hills, mountains, etc.) it's often too dark to capture anything other than the moon. 

But since the moon rises about 50 minutes later each day, by shooting the day before the Full Moon, you have almost an extra hour of daylight to work with. Two days before, almost two hours more. It doesn't matter that the moon isn't quite fully illuminated. It still looks great. 

A place like Flagstaff, Arizona is great for moonrise shots. It has untold acres of public land, enjoys a lot of clear sky days, and has such a variety of environments relatively nearby, from the San Francisco Peaks to the smaller volcanic mountains, to the Painted Desert, and the red rock canyons of Sedona. Plus, it's not a congested city like Phoenix. Here you can get outta town in a few minutes.

So this time I launched myself north, onto the Coconino National Forest via US 89. Tuesday, with the lengthening spring days affording more time to get on location before moonrise. 

[Photo: Moonrise over Wukoki Pueblo Ruin.
Click on image for larger version.]

Exiting the highway onto the road into Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument, we viewed the colorful cinder cone hulk itself from the open expanses of Bonito Park. The moon had been up for two hours already. I drove on, looking for a suitable foreground before the sun went down.

North of Sunset Crater, I drove down out of the Ponderosa pine forest zone and onto the southwestern reaches of the Painted Desert. On Wupatki National Monument, we stopped to check out the Wukoki Pueblo ruin. Built atop a big chunk of red sandstone, it was three stories high and housed two or three families. With a sweeping view all around, it's a fascinating piece of prehistory.

[Photo: Moonrise at dusk, Wukoki Pueblo Ruin.
Click on image for larger version.]

This is a good example of using something tall in the foreground when the moon's this high in the sky before Full Moon.

On Wednesday I was glad that I got some shots the evening before, because the eastern horizon was clouded out. The weather thing.

So I was banking on Thursday, the day before Full Moon, to be there for me. As the afternoon wore on it wasn't looking very promising. Lots of blue sky, but lots of clouds in the east, too. 

At 5:00 PM it was decision time: go for it, or go home. The eastern skyline was mostly cloudy, but there was a significant patch of it that was clear. Maybe, just maybe...

[Photo: Sunset at Doney Mountain.
Click on image for larger version.]

I drove north to Sunset Crater again. The view from Bonito Park was nice except that the sun wasn't shining on the volcano, due to clouds around the San Francisco Peaks to the west. Another decision point: hang out here, or try for something more dramatic further north. I felt like going for it.

Another 30 miles north, I pulled off the highway onto the north end of Wupatki National Monument. This time I headed for the Lomaki pueblo ruins, which are small but quite photogenic. My planning, using the excellent The Photographer's Ephemeris, gave me a good idea of where the moon would rise, and when. But when I got to the parking lot and trailhead for the ruins, I could see that I was shut out by the clouds. The open part of the horizon was further south from this vantage.

[Photo: Sunset light on trail up Doney Mountain.
Click on image for larger version.]

So I drove south, hoping for a suitable angle and location for the moonrise. I was the only vehicle on the road through this desolate, beautiful landscape. The low angle of the sun was lighting up the blond dead winter grasses, blowing in the strong springtime wind.

The Loop Road through Wupatki and Sunset Crater briefly wanders onto the Coconino National Forest. There, the Forest Service has a little parking lot with a short, easy trail up Doney Mountain, which is actually three volcanic cinder cones. You get to hike up the smaller two. 

But more importantly on this crucial April evening, it looked like it might just be a suitable location to photograph the moonrise. So I hit the trail. 

[Photo: Moonrise from Doney Mountain.
Click on image for larger version.]

What a great spot. Wild land all around, a clear view. No powerlines, or people. The wind was so fierce that it seemed to almost knock me over, but it was a small price to pay.

I made a few shots from the summit of the smallest cinder cone. No moon in sight. Where would it appear, relative to the cloud bank on the horizon? Would the clouds block moonrise totally, until it was too dark for a good moonrise shot?

Meanwhile, I was enjoying the scenery, and eyeing the trail up the taller cinder cone. Wondering what sunset shots might await me there. I started up its trail.

[Photo: Moonrise from Doney Mountain.
Click on image for larger version.]

But I didn't get far. There was the moon, seemingly out of nowhere. Stop, set up tripod, shoot. Make a variety of compositions from close up to wide angle, with the sunset coloring the clouds.

Finally the sun was down, it was getting dark. I walked the trail back down to my truck. The ever brilliant, ever rising moon "followed me home" on the drive back to Flagstaff.

Friday, the night of the Full Moon, was clouded out. See why I start three or four days early?

You might also be interested in my Grand Canyon Photography blog.

  

Chasing Moonrise, Wupatki National Monument, Arizona

[Photo: Snow cloud and pueblo ruins, Wupatki National Monument, Arizona.
Click on image for larger version.]

A couple of days ago, it was once again time for Full Moon moonrise landscape shots. Which are best made the day before the full moon, when it rises while there is still adequate light on the landscape.

This time, the weather was dicey, meaning many clouds on the eastern horizon. That's make or break, of course. In Flagstaff we'd been having light snow showers off and on all day. So I had dim hopes for an early evening shoot of the moonrise.

But as the afternoon wore on, more sun and blue sky appeared around the clouds. Since the full moon only comes once a month, you have to try. You might get lucky.

[Photo: pueblo ruins and sunset snow curtain, Wupatki National Monument, Arizona.
Click on image for larger version.]

So I headed north of Flagstaff on US Highway 89. Up to the summit, then right onto the road to Sunset Crater National Monument. Before you enter the Monument, there is a very nice turnoff at Bonito Park on the National Forest land. It has an excellent view of Sunset Crater volcano.

Having recently made some sweet moonrise shots from this location, I was less than excited to make some similar ones. So with seemingly plenty of daylight left, I drove back out to 89 and headed north over the back side of the summit, down onto the high volcanic plains. Wide open spaces, down out of the Ponderosa pine forests.

I was headed for the north entrance to Wupatki National Monument, about 25 miles north of Flagstaff. As I drove, I noted with satisfaction some big cloud banks hovering near the northeast horizon. Streamers of snow hung below them, probably never reaching the ground, and thus not shutting off the eastern horizon to the moonrise. If the moonrise was obstructed by clouds, the others could well get lit up nicely by the sunset rays.

It's good for a nature photographer to have a Plan B. If not a Plan C.

Inside the northern road into Wupatki, it was two miles to the parking area where the trail led into the scattered, small, but very photogenic, pueblo ruins at Lomaki. I parked the truck, wolfed down some more of the Subway sandwich I'd stopped to get along the way, then was off on the short and easy trail.

[Photo: Moonrise, sunset colors, and pueblo ruins, Wupatki National Monument, Arizona.
Click on image for larger version.]

The sky was changing quickly, and I walked fast. I didn't have much time. (Did I ever, in situations like this?).

Skipping the first ruins for the vantage point at the second ruins, I made a few quick exposures. Then I hoofed it over to the larger ruins. Really crunch time. The setting sun was only on the uppermost wall of the ruin. The snowy cloud bank was huge and wide, way more than I could capture in a single exposure.

So I shot a wide angle series of overlapping photos, to be merged later in Photoshop.

The moon? Oh yeah, that is what I came here for. Peering off toward the lower right edge of the massive cloud, I thought I saw it. Was that the typical faint white-blue disk of the moon just creeping above the horizon, or was I fooling myself? It was, and so I wasn't.

[Photo: Snow shower curtain and pueblo ruins, Wupatki National Monument, Arizona.
Click on image for larger version.]

Hoping that it would rise up into another gap in a few minutes, I waited. And waited. And...finally made a few more shots of the darkening cloud bank above the ruins and the Antelope Plains.

It turned out to be a very nice series. No killer moonrise shots. Only a fleeting glimpse. But some amazing golden hour landscape shots. Time and effort well spent.

On the drive back south, the moon rose above the clouds. Its bright silvery patterned disk followed me the rest of the way home.

You might also be interested in my Grand Canyon Photography blog.