An Unusually, Grey Day in Zion
Very soon after my arrival in Zion National Park, we had a humdinger of rainstorm. The after-show was epic
Having grown up in California, I am quite used to having clear, blue blanket above me. As I traveled around the country and the world, I always seemed to be more attracted to clouds and grey skies than the sunny ones from my youth.
In Germany, I loved the high, thin clouds that blew in from the Atlantic. In South Carolina, the thunderstorms were some of the most powerful ones I'd ever seen. Juneau, Alaska has 250+ days a year of precipitation and the resultant clouds billowing over the water and the mountaintops were things of amazement and beauty that I've never seen since. Idaho's high prairies created some of the highest/tallest clouds known to man ... or at least this man. So, yeah. You can say that I appreciate clouds.
When I moved to Zion National Park, I knew that it be in a desert and the heat and dryness would be covered by clear, blue and yellow heat. What I did not expect was the incredible power and beauty of the few storms that run through here. Soon after my arrival, I was lucky enough to see an awesome storm that swept through the canyon depositing enough rain to create powerful waterfalls on all the cliffs and made all the dry washes and river beds come to life.
My favorite part of it all was the play of light as it emerged at the tail end of the storm. As the clouds thin and the rays broke through, I was able to see these stones, cliffs, and pillars in an entirely new way.
Enjoy!
Après la Tempête
The clouds gathered and gained strength. When they released, the whole canyon shook with torrential rains, strong cracks of thunder and whipping winds. Afterwards ... pure beauty!
The clouds break as the storm over Zion Canyon ends.
To the complaint, 'There are no people in these photographs,' I respond, There are always two people: the photographer and the viewer.
Ansel Adams
There are times when I feel as if I should be making more effort to capture the faces of the people in my world. Today was not one of those days.
After the storm passed, I was greeted with some of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. Breathtaking vistas were all around me and I couldn't NOT try to capture the swirling, shifting clouds and the strong features of the sandstone cliffs.
I've never seen anything quite like it.
The Clouds of San Antonio
If you know me, I have a tendency to look upwards. So far, I've been stunningly impressed with what I've seen in the skies down in Texas.
I spend a lot of time looking at and admiring the clouds. My elder son gives me a funny look when I mention if a particular one looks cool or when I show excitement at an ominous-looking ridge moving in the sky. He's used to it by now, I suppose.
I'm in a new state now and the clouds are noticeably different than the ones in the Inland Northwest but they're still quite majestic. The flatness of the earth, and the lack of mountains give the wind and moisture far fewer impediments and allows the vapor to pool together in massive and monstrous forms.
The moisture comes up from a variety of sources and climbs up to join the flying sea. The science of temperature, air pressure, the wind, and gravity combine to create the shapes and colors we see above. The sun and its rays paint light on the great number of surfaces that can catch and hold the reflection. Within moments, white turns to blue, which turns to gray, then, as if by magic, the collection of water shifts a tiny bit and the mass bursts into orange as it captures and reflects light from the sun.
The clouds seem to be a bit different in every region in which I visit or live. Sometimes only slightly so but there are always unique shapes and sizes. I don't know the meteorological science behind them very well but that doesn't stop me from looking up to view and admire them.
I wouldn't call myself a daydreamer. That label has an air of unproductivity to it and I'm certainly not that. I like looking at them. They're an excuse to escape the stresses of the day and they give me a reminder that I'm living in the present moment. Their vastness reminds me that we're all just specks of dirt on the earth's surface and the knowledge of the great distances they travel and reminds me of the wider world.
Don't forget to look up!