Into the Storm

Storm light - there’s nothing quite like it.

One evening, while Rhonda and I were eating dinner at home, rain began falling outside. After a quick glance at each other, we did the opposite of what most people do when a thunderstorm rolls in: we finished dinner as fast as we could and headed straight for Arches National Park.

For the next couple of hours, we wandered through a nearly empty park beneath dramatic skies, stopping every few minutes to photograph whatever caught our eye. The storm transformed the landscape. Sunlight broke through gaps in the clouds, illuminating red sandstone formations against dark, brooding skies. Every direction seemed to offer another scene worth capturing.

Most people spend their lives avoiding storms. Not just the ones that arrive with thunder and rain, but the storms that inevitably appear in life as well. Years ago, Rhonda and I probably did the same thing. Since then, we've experienced our share of difficult seasons - challenges, setbacks, and losses that, at the time, felt overwhelming.

When you're standing in the middle of a storm, it's often impossible to see what lies beyond it. Yet every storm eventually passes. Looking back, it's often those difficult experiences that have shaped us the most. They sharpened our perspective, strengthened our resolve, and taught us what truly matters. Like the dramatic light that follows a thunderstorm, beauty and clarity often emerge from places we least expect.

We don't hide from storms - we embrace them.

A thunderstorm in Arches National Park transforms an already extraordinary landscape into something even more powerful and beautiful. Experiencing it requires a little extra effort and a willingness to venture out when others stay home, but the results speak for themselves.

Sometimes the most memorable photographs - and the most meaningful moments in life - are found by stepping directly into the storm and waiting for the light.