As much as I am deeply drawn to the sunrises in the East, I am perhaps even more attracted to the drama created by the solar disk as it appears above western horizons, and sometimes even when it doesn’t appear at all, but merely sends its reflected light to bounce of the Red Rock. No matter how many times I make that quarter mile walk from the parking lot to the sandstone arc of Mesa Arch, it is a sight of which I never grow weary. Sadly, it has become such that it is, for all practical purposes, impossible to re-create this scene. Mesa Arch has become a world attraction such that every day scores, if not hundreds, of visitors make the walk to see the light bounce off the underside of the fabled sandstone as the canyonlands light up from below.

A focal length of 225mm gave me the narrowed angle-of-view I wanted to isolate the extremes of the arch as it merged with the parental stone. An aperture of f/11 provided depth-of-field, but also took into account that the background buttes and mesas would be a bit soft as the depth trailed off in their direction. The arch itself was my primary concern. This aperture setting also allowed for a shutter speed of 1/15th second at ISO 100 which was fast enough to prevent motion in the foliage created by the warming desert air.

As special as Utah’s Big Five National Parks are to me, they have become so heavily visited it is not difficult to consider them almost as sacrifice zones that draw the crowds so that the lesser and more-difficult-to-access beauties can remain more or less pristine. And if we do not learn to visit with respect, we will, sad-to-say, love the Red Rock to death. It isn’t about gloom-and doom, it’s just a recognition of what is: Abbey reincarnated, if you will.