Southern Utah - autumn 2025
With a keen eye on the high desert of southern Utah for an autumn expedition this year, I set my sights on Zion National Park, a place I had never visited but had long interested me. It's a popular destination to be sure, a point that gave me pause, but I sensed there were ample opportunities for my kind of solitary wandering in less traveled sections of the park.
My instincts proved accurate, not a huge surprise given the size of the park, and I enjoyed a couple of days exploring Zion's canyons and washes, with few specific objectives and an open mind. It was a fascinating and invigorating adventure. I bypassed the postcard vistas and popular destinations and just went where the spirit of the moment led me. I talk a lot about the rewards of returning to familiar places with my camera, but this first visit to Zion reminded me of the wonder and excitement that an entirely new location brings.
In planning the trip, I had the good fortune to speak with Zion photographer Seth Hamel, who provided me with invaluable input on sections of the park that most aligned with my interests. Before talking to Seth, I wasn't sure I needed to include the main Zion canyon on my itinerary, primarily due to the crowds and shuttle bus access system. Seth insisted I see it, however, and suggested renting an e-bike to avoid the shuttle and to travel when and where I wanted. It turned out to be an excellent idea, even if it included a hair-raising start.
On my first morning, I headed out on the e-bike in pre-dawn darkness, following a bike and foot path that snaked along the Virgin River and up Zion Canyon. "Darkness" is the operative word, and a malfunctioning headlight on my bike turned what should have been a refreshing early ride into a white-knuckle race through a dark, twisting labyrinth of brush, trees, fence lines, and grazing deer. With 35 pounds of camera bag and tripod strapped to the heavy e-bike, I felt like I was piloting a locomotive. I'm not sure why I hurried, but disaster was inches away and approaching fast as I sped along the trail.
Somehow I survived without a crash and arrived at a spot that looked promising for early light. After securing the bike, I set out and immediately faced a gorgeous full moon framed by imposing peaks. Unfortunately, an unplanned moonset in an unfamiliar location proved too much of a challenge. I scrambled to unpack my camera, but by the time I made a composition and set my exposure, the moon had dropped behind the mountain. Perhaps my mad dash in the dark was subconscious anticipation of the need to be ready for an early morning surprise.
No matter. I saw the full moon as a good omen and spent the day exploring Zion Canyon, with its orange-red sandstone walls, cottonwoods blazing with fall color, and inviting river meandering nearby. If there was a theme to my photography on this Zion trip it was reflected light. Who needs a sunset when light bouncing off the rock faces and canyon walls illuminated such a fascinating array of subjects.
After an enjoyable day in Zion Canyon, I spent the next couple of days exploring Zion's east side, with its slickrock and winding creek beds. The desert is not new to me, since I've spent plenty of time photographing Death Valley and the Eastern Sierra, but Zion has its own color palette, features, and vibe, and it took a while to adjust my vision for the landscape. In particular, I misjudged the pre-sunrise dawn light on the slickrock. For some interesting early morning rock formation compositions, I ended up with greenish tan hues rather than the coolish blues I've found so captivating in the sand dunes and mountain valleys elsewhere. A bit of a disappointment but certainly a lesson learned.
It was only when the morning sunlight began to creep down the rock walls, bouncing a glow on the washes below, that the light revealed another dimension to the landscape. I made a conscious effort to break out of my routine and look for wider compositions, but, with a couple of exceptions, I had to face the reality that the more intimate scenes were simply irresistible.
Red maple leaves littered the ground, providing beautiful subject matter and bright contrasts against the earth. Radiant yellow cottonwood trees called for attention in the dry washes, while weathered, stunted pines stood out against the mesmerizing textures of undulating sandstone. And sun-bleached manzanita branches, the desert equivalent of driftwood, lay fallen and forlorn on the red-orange slickrock. All of this and more came to life in the reflected light. It was common for me to set out on a hike and take an hour to go 20 yards. I discovered I could spend almost an entire day poking around the east side washes by following the shade.
Aside from the pervasive reflected light, I was also taken, somewhat surprisingly, by the variety of color in Zion's desert environment. I expected the brilliant yellow cottonwood trees, but the red maple leaves, particularly on the drier east side, took me by surprise. Clearly I had unwittingly timed my visit for peak red maple season. Discovering arid washes littered with those leaves was certainly a highlight of the trip.
Perhaps I'll focus more on sunsets the next time I visit Zion, but I was happy to spend this time on the quieter scenes, and I reveled in the thrill of a new location.
leaves & other Small scenes
Desert Trees
weathered Sandstone
Water works