As myself and nine other photographers loaded our gear into our cars, our first pilgrimage of the season to the desert began. From Boulder to Moab, the transition of mountains into desert is slow, gradual and always exciting. The snowy peaks reflect golden light, the Western Slope turns pink from the fading sun, and we first see the desert in complete darkness and stillness.
I had a lot on my mind leading up to this trip. I found my old favorite saying buried in a stack of notes and journals as my excitement for the desert grew, “don’t fight the river” and decided that I would be as present as possible while accepting what I can’t control, here, under the stars, in Moab, Utah.
We arrived at camp and the photographing began. Tripods were unburied from trunks, cameras mounted and we all began to click our shutters as we gazed up at the Milky Way, which was more clear in the dark sky than we thought it would be.
I walked a ways off from camp and sat down in the red dust. I started my first exposure and ended up with the chattering headlamps of photographers as they moved around underneath the clouds of the Milky Way. I missed that desert sky. It was just as magical as I left it six months ago on a return from an epic trip to Grand Gulch in Utah and Grand Canyon National Park. It was on that trip where I learned that my emotional connection to the desert is not unheard of.
It is the quiet thinkers who love the desert. Those who are strong-willed and opinionated, those who don’t take life for granted, and those who are always willing to speak up who understand the desert. They appreciate the silence and tranquility. They love the freedom of the open and endless road that winds through time told by ancient rocks. We’re the ones who can hear its voice within its complete silence.
People can sometimes be ridiculous. They get caught up in their daily dramas and to-do lists and forget how important it is to be selfless, honest, and present. I’ll admit, I do this often in my daily life in Boulder. But a little weekend trip to the land of sand and rocks humbles me and reminds me of my values. I watched what the desert did to my nine friends who came along over the weekend; one of my friends and I came to the realization that our “spiritual being lies in the desert”.
We spent the next two days exploring arches and canyons. We took hundreds of photos and laughed and sang “Bohemian Rhapsody” and ate our meals on the ground in paved parking lots. We wandered around on slick-rock in the dark and ate too many Cheetos and admired the stars.
Even when the highway closed from icy roads and inches of snow, we couldn’t stop laughing. There was no worry about missing assignments and classes as we checked into a hotel for an accidental extra night. These were simply problems for our future selves. We enjoyed the time we had left with each other.
It was so refreshing to return to one of my many sources of inspiration. My mind is clear and I am more present than I have been in quite some time.