A couple of weeks before the summer solstice, Utah begins to unleash its inhospitable brutality. The only feasible human adaptation is to become crepuscular along with the coyotes, the rabbits, and songbirds, as I was to become for the next couple of months.
I arrived in the Bentonite Hills at dusk, after having forded the Freemont River and winding my way upwards for around nine miles until arriving in these hills of myriad color. Using the iPhone 4S I made photos of the evening.
It is an unusual feeling to almost dread the rising sun, knowing that within the hour pangs of thirst will follow, like a starfish longing to be cast into the sea. Instead I celebrated, as I do with occasional sunrises, by playing the Beatles tune, Here Comes the Sun.
With very little time to work before the shadows disappeared I pulled out the Nikon and roamed the hills of bentonite looking for some way to convey the incredible beauty surrounding me.
The bentonite hills are colorful and the surface is quite dry and crusty, until the monsoon rains fall, when they become impassable, slippery clay. Volcanic stones of unknown origin are spaced throughout the landscape.
How to live a crepuscular life and photograph both ends of the day? You must be willing to sacrifice. This was how I slept that night, which to me is no sacrifice at all.