Photography Is Dead (Just Kidding)

If there’s one thing you can usually say about the weather in Moab, it’s that it’s monotonously nice - blue skies, bright sun, day after day. So when I looked out the window during breakfast with Rhonda and saw something unfamiliar - I had to ask:

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Rhonda replied.

“Those gray things in the sky.”

She glanced up at the clouds and asked, “Is it supposed to rain today?”

I was already checking my phone. “Sure is!” I said, grinning. “In fact, it’s supposed to rain all day. Want to have a picnic?”

Now, I get it - that probably sounds weird. But around here, clouds are a rare photographic treat. Within minutes, I had my gear packed, Rhonda had grabbed lunch, and we were heading for the park.

As we entered, we passed a steady stream of cars leaving. A full-on exodus. Even though the light show was just beginning to build, people were bailing.

Visitors come to see the parks, but do they really see them? That thought rattled around in my head as we roamed the park under soft, shifting light and only the lightest of sprinkles. At one overlook, I watched other visitors snapping quick shots before rushing off. Nobody lingered. Nobody looked.

Now, I try not to be a photo snob. I don’t expect everyone to see the desert the way I do. But still - some of these folks had serious camera gear and were saying things like, “There’s no blue sky.” Others took only selfies - no problem with that, I take plenty with Rhonda - but that was all they took. No one spent more than two minutes at a view that took millions of years to form.

I turned to Rhonda, eyes heavy with sorrow. “Photography is dead. There’s no hope.”

She just smiled and held up our lunch. She's used to my drama. We found a quiet spot under a big juniper and sat listening to the gentle rain tapping on the sandstone. The smell of desert rain - wet earth, juniper, sage - was intoxicating. It was a welcome break from weeks of triple-digit heat.

After lunch, we wandered to a few more favorite spots and took photos in dramatic, moody light. We didn’t see another soul.

Turns out, photography isn’t dead after all. For those who slow down and really look, the desert offers moments you can’t buy or schedule. And sometimes, if you're lucky, you get the whole park to yourself.

What a great time to be a photographer.

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Photography Notes:

I wasn’t joking - when there's even a hint of storm light, people start clearing out of the parks. For photographers, that’s exactly when things get interesting. If you’re planning a visit to Utah’s national parks, keep a close eye on the forecast and plan around the weather. You won’t regret it.

It was a lucky break that this day was July 3rd, one day before a federal holiday, because we never set foot in national parks on holiday weekends. Even when I was working, I followed a golden rule: go a week *after* the holiday. By then, the crowds are gone and the parks are peaceful. I always had enough vacation time, so skipping the actual holiday was no loss. That strategy never failed me.

Also, a quick note about logistics: this was my first time using the Timed Entry system at Arches, even though it’s been around for a while. Honestly? It was a breeze. I decided to head into the park, opened the recreation.gov app, and within a minute had a $2 ticket for the current hour on my phone. Come on - how hard was that, and I’m approaching 70!  Anyway - no big crowds, plenty of parking - what’s not to like?  Embrace it.

I purposely included some cars in the image for scale. Everything is BIG out here!

A Stillness Beneath the Stones