Sunrise at Grand View Point – Canyonlands’ Quiet Awakening
A serene morning hike to Grand View Point in Canyonlands National Park leads to first light over Junction Butte and glowing desert vistas.
The Journey In
I began the hike in near darkness, following the faint outline of the trail rim under starlight. Desert brush brushed my legs, and the soft crunch of sandstone underfoot echoed in the silence. As the horizon began to glow, I scrambled up a stack of rocks — my footsteps guided more by memory than sight — until I reached the overlook I had long scouted above Junction Butte.
There, perched on a slab that felt sculpted just for me, I laid down my pack and began to breathe in the stillness.
The First Light
As the sun broke across the horizon, beams of amber light spilled over the vast canyonlands. The sandstone formations blushed warm with the day’s first color, and haze settled gently in the distance, softening the jagged mesas into painterly layers. Junction Butte stood like a monument in the middle distance, catching the glow like it had been waiting for this very moment.
This was why I came.
The Shot
The light was fleeting, and I knew I had only a few minutes. I framed the shot to balance the sculpted foreground with the glowing butte, careful to capture the scale and serenity of the canyon beyond. The stillness, the space, the solitude — all of it came together in that one breath of morning.
Location & Gear
**📍 Location:** Canyonlands National Park
**🧭 Trail & Access:** Grand Viewpoint trail
**🎒 Gear Used:**
- Canon R5
- 15–35mm f/2.8
- Really Right Stuff tripod
Edge of Autumn – Golden Light at Bow Lake
Golden trees, glassy reflections, and peaceful sunrise at Bow Lake—an unforgettable autumn morning captured in the Canadian Rockies.
There’s something sacred about autumn in the Rockies. The air turns crisp, the crowds thin, and the landscape begins its most dramatic transformation. I had long envisioned capturing Bow Lake at the peak of fall—when golden trees hug the shoreline and the first light of day glances across the water.
The Experience
Fall is my favorite season, and this morning reminded me exactly why. I arrived well before dawn, walking the lake’s edge in silence, the only sound the crunch of frost under my boots. I was completely alone.
As the sun crept over the mountains, it cast long, golden rays that lit up the forest in a soft, fiery glow. The stillness of the water mirrored the trees and peaks perfectly—no wind, no rush. Just light and color and stillness.
Challenges
Photographing in this kind of light is both a gift and a challenge. The window is brief—just minutes where the warm tones paint the scene before shadows shift. I used a wide-angle lens and a polarizer to cut glare off the lake and enhance the reflection. The large dynamic range meant I needed to bracket exposures to capture the full extent of the scene
Final Reflections
What made this morning truly special was the solitude. No footsteps, no shutter clicks except my own. Just me, the mountains, and the fiery larch trees reflected in perfect calm. It’s moments like this that make all the early alarms and scouting missions worth it.
Fall doesn’t last long, but it always leaves an impression.
Location & Gear
**📍 Location:** Bow Lake, Alberta
**🧭 Trail & Access:** Unmarked spur trail
**🎒 Gear Used:**
- Canon R5
- 24–105mm f/4
- Really Right Stuff tripod with spiked feet for rocky terrain
Sunbeams and Steel – Chasing the Perfect Train Shot
Four visits, hours of waiting, and one missed train — all for a few seconds of perfect light. This is the story behind “Sunbeams and Steel,” a shot years in the making.
The Wait
Some photographs come easily. Others test your patience — again and again.
This shot was the latter.
There’s no official schedule posted for this commuter train. Sometimes it glides past within minutes. Other times, you can wait for hours — only for the perfect light to vanish before it ever appears. I made the trip out to this quiet bend in the tracks four separate times, each time chasing the shot I had imagined: a train illuminated by morning sunbeams, framed by trees and mist.
Once, I pulled up just as the train was already rounding the corner — I scrambled for my camera, only to watch it vanish in a blur of motion before I could fire a single frame. Another time, I waited for two hours in silence, with golden light streaming perfectly through the forest… but no train ever came.
Persistence Rewarded
On my fourth attempt, I arrived early — well before sunrise. A chill hung in the air, and the trees were still wet with dew. As the sky began to brighten, soft shafts of light broke through the trees, casting streaks of gold across the forest floor.
I checked the tracks. Nothing yet. I adjusted my composition, dialed in my settings, and waited.
And then, a distant hum.
The train emerged from the curve, just as the light reached its peak. Beams of sunlight sliced through the trees, illuminating the steel cars as they rolled through the forest. I fired off a series of shots, holding my breath. The moment lasted seconds — but I had it.
This wasn’t just a photo. It was a reward for persistence, for all the near misses and quiet waits. And it reminded me: the best images are often the ones you have to earn.
Photography often asks for more than technical skill — it demands patience, persistence, and sometimes a little luck. This shot was a reminder of that.
Location & Gear
**📍 Location:** Morant’s Curve
**🎒 Gear Used:**
- Canon R5
- 24-105mm f/4L
- Really Right Stuff tripod