The Terra Galleria Blog – QT Luong

The Great Sand Dunes protected by the National Park of the same name have the distinction of being the tallest dunes in North America, raising to heights of 750 feet.

Climbing the dunes proved quite an exercise. I was making one step backwards for every two steps forward on the deep sand. It took me one hour of hiking, from the time I stepped on the first dunes, to reach the top of the tallest dune. I was glad this was still May, when the temperatures were pleasant, and the mosquitoes hadn’t arrived yet, as I’ve read that the surface temperature of the sand can reach 140 degrees in the summer.

While I enjoyed the 360 degrees view, I didn’t think that it gave a good sense of the size of the dunes. When you are standing on the top of a mountain, you don’t see the mountain itself, right ? I remembered the first glimpse of the dunes I got upon entering the park. Because of the high sun, the dunes lacked relief then, but by late afternoon, the light should be just right.

I hiked down quickly, and crossed Medano Creek to get back to my car. I drove the access road a couple of miles past the visitor center and then past the park headquarters to maybe a mile before the private lodge, and then set up not too far from the road. Sometimes, the view you are looking for is the easiest to get to !

After a few tight shots with my 35mm camera and the 100-400mm, I reached for my large format camera and the longest lens that I own, a 720mm. Although this sounds impressive, on the 5×7 camera this is equivalent to a very modest 160mm on 35mm. Because of the extension and the relatively long exposure time of about 1/2 a second, I also needed to use two tripods to support the camera adequately and prevent vibrations that would have ruined the sharpness of the image.

The lens was not long enough to frame tightly the dunes and Sangre de Cristo Mountains, but I knew that the image would crop perfectly to a panoramic 6×17. I liked anyways the greater context it provided to the picture. The flats, accentuated by the grazing light, begin here and extend towards the East for most of the continent’s interior. Framing tightly often results in a more striking image, as no “uninteresting” element distracts from the main subject, yet the image with the broader context often rewards a more sustained viewing.

View all images of Great Sand Dunes National Park

This year, two different retail calendars feature exclusively my images. I have received some copies from the publisher that I an offering for sale. Images below are to exact relative scale.

The first one, similar to last year’s National Park Calendar, is almost an exhibit piece, at 23×16″. If you are interested, you should place an order as soon as possible, as it is almost sold out, and I do not anticipate receiving more copies.

The second one is a more standard (practical ?) 12×12″ size with a full page grid below each image for notes. All the images are from Yosemite National Park. I find the choice of images slightly odd, but it is a precursor of a more notable product by the same publisher, Rizzoli Universe, that I’ll announce in time next year.

See the images inside the calendars.

The Channel Islands of California are situated off the Santa Barbara and Los Angeles coast. Five of those islands form Channel Islands National Park.

Inspiration point, on East Anacapa Island, where I am standing, offers possibly the most spectacular view on the entire US West Coast. Earlier in the day, a misty marine layer (a frequent ocurence) had obscured the views I was hoping to capture at sunrise. But now the cool mist has evaporated, revealing beyond a ridge of East Anacapa a striking chain of three islands, Middle Anacapa, West Anacapa and Santa Cruz Island. Standing 250 feet above the narrow strait separating East and Middle Anacapa, I absorbed the dynamic spectacle of pelicans, gulls, and guillemots soaring below me, above a backdrop of deep blue waters and crashing waves.

Stepping gingerly near the edge of the sea cliff, I looked for a position where I would be able to include a set of Coreopsis flowers as a background to the dramatic view. Inspiration Point is spectacular at any time of the day and year, however, like most of the California hills, the islands are at their greenest at the end of the winter, before returning to brown by the end of April. The strange tree sun-flower, or Coreopsis, blossoms with bright yellow bouquets for a short period of time from the end of March to Mid-April. Although they nest in even larger numbers later in the spring, when every inch of the island seems inhabited by them, in April there were already an impressive number of Western Gulls on the island plateau, each of them sitting on a shallow nest with eggs.

Of all the Channel Islands, East Anacapa Island is the closest to the mainland, only 12 miles – a short hour crossing – from Oxnard, with boats from the concessionaire running all year. Yet the islands are at a same time a world apart. Isolation over thousands of years has created unique animals and plants found nowhere else on Earth, like the Coreopsis.

Although I live in California, I visited 41 National Parks all over the country before my first visit to Channel Islands. Despite being so close to the heavily populated mainland, the islands are little known. They see only light visitation and have preserved a wild character. Since East Anacapa Island is so small, only 3/4 mile long, all of its trails can easily be hiked in a couple of hours, so almost all visits are day trips. I shared the small campground where I had been staying overnight with only two other tents. As the concessionaire had a weight limit of 45 pounds for each bag that can be transported on the boat, I just packed my photography gear and camping gear in two bags, that I carried on two hikes over the 1/2 mile from the landing cove. Not being used to it, the sound of the lighthouse fog horn prevented me from getting a good night of sleep, but being able to stand at Inspiration Point at sunset, and then early in the morning made it well worth it.

See more images from Inspiration Point
See more images from Channel Islands National Park

Treasured Lands, the exhibition of my 58 images of the National Parks at the National Heritage Museum was initially scheduled to close this week.

I am pleased to announce that due to its success, the Museum has decided to extend the exhibition until Spring 2011.

Treasured Lands is the main feature of the summer issue of the Museum Newsletter (PDF) which reproduces a selection of images and accompanying commentaries from some of the lesser known parks.

If you are curious about how the exhibition looks, but cannot make it to Lexington, MA, have a look at newly posted installation images for Treasured Lands. I have also posted installation images from assorted exhibits of the past two years.

Like in Theodore Roosevelt National Park that we visited two weeks ago, badlands dominate the landscape of Badlands National Park (surprise !).

However, there is a striking difference of scenery. While in Theodore Roosevelt National Park I saw the badlands mixed with shrubs, conifers, and aspens (which provide some color accents in autumn), in Badlands National Park, the vegetation consists only of stretches of prairie.

This absence of high vegetation made the Badlands landscape more stark, revealing the effects of erosion on a large scale. Standing on the overlooks reminded me of the landscapes of the Colorado Plateau where canyons and ridges seemed to stretch as far as the eye can see. The same forces of water were at play here, although on a shorter geological time scale, as the sediments and mud that makes up the Badlands is much softer.

Although many of the easily accessible overlooks in the park main North unit (including Pinnacles, right off the Wall entrance) provide excellent perspectives, I remember most the Stronghold Unit, as it provided a remarkable solitude – it is seen by only 1% of the visitors to Badlands National Park – extensive views, and a connection to Indian history.

The whole Black Hills of South Dakota rightfully belongs to the Lakota people. In 1851, the boundaries of Lakota land were clearly marked in the first Treaty of Fort Laramie. They were reaffirmed in the second Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, after the Lakota defeated the US army several times, making it the only war in American history in which the US negotiated peace by conceding everything demanded. Yet the US found ways to get around the Treaty. The Indian Wars ended with in 1890 at the Wounded Knee massacre where 300 men, women, and children were indiscriminately shot using the new Hotchkiss gun, a rapid fire weapon that fired exploding shells. Today, their descendants are confined to the Pine Ridge Reservation, one of the poorest areas in the country, with rates of unemployment, illness, and mortality comparable to some of the most troubled third-world countries.

The South Units of Badlands National Park (Stronghold Unit, and the inaccessible Palmer Unit) are made up of lands that belong to the Pine Ridge Reservation, however, even those lands were appropriated by the US in 1942 for a gunnery and bombing range. Today those lands are still administered by the National Park service. There is currently a serious proposal to give back the National Park Service South Unit lands to the Oglala Sioux Tribe for management as America’s first tribal national park. However, a return of the Black Hills to the Lakota is very unlikely: the Supreme Court, even as it agreed in 1980 that the Black Hills were illegally taken, just offered a payment of $106 million as compensation, which was refused by the tribes.

State Road 40 follows the western boundary of the Stronghold Unit inside the Pine Ridge Reservation. I was looking for the Red Shirt Table Overlook, clearly marked on the map provided by the National Park Service, but not so easy to locate on the terrain in the pre-dawn dark. After a few hesitations, I left the main road and drove through an open gate to the overlook, a few hundred yards right to the edge of the plateau. There was nothing there except for a few portable toilets.

An immense basin, filled with innumerable spires stretched before me, filling up the whole eastern view. I could see in the distance the Stronghold Table, where the last Ghost Dance was performed. The darkness gradually gave way to a dim light. Since I would be shooting towards the East, I expected the best light to be in the quarter-hour at dawn starting half an hour before sunrise. The light is generally too flat at mid-day in the Badlands to shoot expansive landscapes. The flat horizon made it possible to use a strong graduated neutral density filter that preserved some of the subtle color in the sky while I exposed for badlands, which were illuminated by a dim, but directional light. After the sun rose, the contrast increased quickly. I tried another composition, then just sat there to enjoy the place and try to feel the native spirits. I did not see a single other soul until I departed.

View more images of Badlands National Park.

Wind Cave National Park, one of the three National Parks (together with Mammoth Cave and Carlsbad Caverns) centered around a cave, was the first cave anywhere in the world to be designated a national park.

Although its 134 miles of mapped galleries make it the fourth longest cave in the world, I had heard of Wind Cave for its unusual formations, specifically boxwork, which is its signature feature. Boxwork is a type of mineral formation that resembles a honeycomb pattern of intersecting thin blades of calcite or other minerals. It is very rare and the result of a combination of geological processes, the specific composition of the minerals involved, and the protective environment of the cave.

In general, I prefer to photograph in caves using the cave lighting, which has been carefully designed to emphasize the cave’s features. By contrast, on-camera flash lighting is too flat, and to do use effective off-camera lighting in caves often requires one or more assistants or light stands. For conservation purposes, cave lighting is kept quite dim, requiring a long exposure. Like in most caves, tripods are not allowed during the tours. However, for once, the bad weather helped me.

Two days before, I had encountered a storm system with winds so severe that I was barely able to pitch my tent. Once I got inside, I felt like I was trying to sleep in a washing machine. Needless to say, this wasn’t too successful. The next day, as I was driving past daytime in the continuing storm, I stopped in an isolated country restaurant seemingly in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by vast plains. There, after engaging me in conversation, and learning that I had no place to stay, a woman offered me a place in their family home. I was immensely grateful to be able to stay out of the weather. I still remember the Dakotas as the first place in America where I had benefited from the hospitality of strangers.

Early this morning, I was the first visitor to drip into the Wind Cave National Park visitor center. Seeing that I had braved the weather to get there, the ranger on duty agreed to give me a private tour without an advance notice.

On such a tour, I was allowed to bring along my tripod, since it would not constitute a tripping hazard for the other participants. The ranger pointed me to the nicest displays of boxwork. the unusual cave formation composed of thin calcite fins resembling honeycombs, for which the cave is known. As formations were lining up the ceiling, the photography with the large format camera required quite a few contortions.

Back on the surface, I felt eager to explore the park’s mixed-grass prairie, but given the weather, this would have to wait for a return trip.

See more images of Wind Cave National Park

Theodore Roosevelt National Park preserves not only a rugged landscape, but also the memory of a man, who has done so much for conservation through his support of the National Parks. It started oddly, though. The impetus for the young Theodore Roosevelt to head to North Dakota was reading in the newspaper that bison were being exterminated. He hoped on a train to be able to kill one himself before they were all gone. However, the badlands taught him respect for nature, while toughening him. He would later say “I would not have been president, had it not for my experience in North Dakota”.

I came to Theodore Roosevelt National Park to collect a different type of trophy. One of the things that fascinated me most about the Parks was not only the extraordinary diversity of the landscapes they featured, but also how those landscapes were inter-related, yet different from each other. Having seen badlands terrain elsewhere made me more curious about how the North Dakota badlands would compare.

I found the two units of the park to have a different character, with the North Unit being more wild and scenic. What struck me the most North was the variety of the erosion formations. Theodore Roosevelt described them as “so fantastically broken in form and so bizarre in color as to seem hardly properly to belong to this earth”. In particular, I discovered numerous cap rocks of different shapes, and even a large, little-known, petrified forest in the South Unit. Getting to some of them required a bit of hiking.

However, the most unique formations I saw were situated next to the road in the North Unit. At the aptly named “Canonball Concretions pullout”, next to the spur road to the campground, I found almost perfect rock spheres of up to five feet diameter, their symmetrical shape contrasting with the chaotic badlands. I was saddened to see that some visitors had traced words in their soft rock, and only hope that this was done in earlier years, when environmental awareness hadn’t reached today’s levels. Yet, after searching around, I concluded that the nicest specimen were the ones that had been defaced, so I resolved to photograph them nevertheless.

As nature photographers, we tend to exclude the hand of man to emphasize the eternal character and the magnificence of the untouched land. However, images showing the impact of man in an otherwise pristine setting are useful, as they could raise awareness that some actions are not to be repeated.

View more images of Theodore Roosevelt National Park

The Front Range of the Rocky Mountains provides one of the most abrupt changes of scenery and elevation anywhere. The western edge of the Great Plains transitions quickly to the mountains that form the Continental Divide, two miles higher. Those Colorado mountains include some of the most accessible high-altitude terrain in North America, including Mount Evans (14,264 ft, 4348 m), reached by a road that has long been the highest paved road in the world.

Further south, Trail Ridge Road, which bisects Rocky Mountain National Park, has the distinction of being the highest continuous motorway in the United States. More than eight miles lie above 11,000 feet, reaching a maximum elevation of 12,183 feet. As expected with such an elevation, the Trail Ridge Road is closed during winter and remains closed until early summer.

Driving the road, I felt I was moving in a short amount of time from a high prairie environment to the Arctic tundra. After a steady uphill section, I emerged above treeline. Starting at Rainbow Curve, I couldn’t decide which panoramic views from the overlooks was the more vertiginous and impressive. However, it’s only when I began to stroll on the tundra that I discovered the richness and variety of the tiny plants that grow there. The tiny sedges, mosses, and alpine flowers, invisible from a distance, formed a rich tapestry revealed by kneeling down. Stones covered with colorful lichens dotted the tundra. I was careful to walk on them in order not to tramp the fragile alpine vegetation. Although I concentrated on the landscape, I noticed pika and marmots.

The legs of my Gitzo tripod could spread almost flat, yet the regular center column was getting in the way of placing the camera low enough. I wished I had remembered to pack the short center column. Instead, I placed the camera directly on flat rocks, doing all sort of contortions in order to be able to focus on the ground glass. The alpine flowers were too tiny for a balanced composition with mountains in the background, but in the course of exploring along the Trail Ridge Road, I eventually found a patch of larger flowers. As the afternoon thunderstorm was moving in, I retreated to the car, wary of the danger of lighting. The rain eventually stopped, leaving me with a dramatic sky as the clouds were clearing.

After photographing the tundra, I looked for some larger features further West. The most interesting I found were the rock formations and summer snow fields at Rock Cut that came alive in the last light before sunset. If instead of going West, I had planned to return towards the East, I would have tried to photograph twisted pines about a mile West of the Rainbow Curve overlook.

View more images of Rocky Mountain National Park

Revised Sept 2020.

With their tremendous diversity of environments and pristine scenery, the National Parks are a great place – although not always the best – to see and photograph fall foliage color. Here is a guide to fall color highlights in nearly each of the National Parks, which lists the best time to be there to catch the color at its peak. For some parks, I have written a more detailed post which is linked. For inspiration, check the links under the names of the national parks, they point to a gallery of photos, part of images of National Parks Fall color foliage.

Eastern Hardwoods

When one thinks about fall colors, the Eastern parks are the first that come to mind. Rightfully so: the variety of deciduous trees there produce extensive displays of color unmatched in their variety. In particular red maples add a bright accent which is not generally found in western forests. It sometimes feels that every tree in the landscape has turned a different color. The colors start in the Mid-West parks in late September and move progressively South, where they peak in November, with elevation changes causing variations of as much as two weeks.

Acadia: This compact park packs a lot of variety. You’ll find in a few other national parks the mix of northern forest evergreens and temperate forest hardwoods, here they grow on steep slopes reflected in ponds and lakes. At higher elevations, patches of berry plants similar to those found on the Alaskan tundra color red the bare top of Cadillac Mountain. Colors start in late September, peaking by the second week of October, a bit later than latitude would suggest because of the overall lower elevation and coastal location.

Shenandoah, Great Smoky Mountains: The Southern Appalachian mountains are home to some of the most varied deciduous forests on the planet, resulting in some of the best foliage displays anywhere. Moreover, the Blue Ridge Mountains offer great ridge-top scenic drives, from the 105 mile-long Skyline Drive in Shenandoah to the Newfound Gap Road in Great Smoky Mountains, with the 469 mile Blue Ridge Parkway in between. The combination of the highest mountains in the Eastern US with spectacular foliage is difficult to beat. From the numerous overlooks, it is easy to capture vast vistas of kaleidoscopic hillsides and ridges. With the proximity of the Eastern urban centers, those drives are very popular during the foliage season, so it is best to visit during weekdays. Colors are at their best on the two last weeks of October but will be present (depending on elevation) from late September to mid-November.

Isle Royale, Voyageurs: Those more northern locations offer a foliage peak in late September, with deciduous trees mixed with northern evergreens. Both parks see very light visitation. The Western end of Isle Royale, near Windigo, has more maples and other deciduous trees than the rest of the island, but like in Voyageurs, there are not too many views outside of the forest. The center and middle of Isle Royale offer to the backpacker extensive views, but they have less color.

Hot Springs, Mammoth Cave: Those more southern and lower-elevation locations offer a foliage peak that occurs later than in the Appalachian mountains, at the beginning of November, lasting through the middle of the month. Despite being known for other sights (bathhouses and cave), there is also a nice woodland landscape amidst the gentle hilly scenery. Check the Green River Bluff Trail in Mammoth Cave, and the Gulpha Gorge in Hot Springs. Crowds are much thinner than in the better-known parks.

Congaree: The park offers the opportunity to explore a swamp forest in the fall through a very long elevated boardwalk. The abundance of water provides for nice reflections. Although there is no variation in elevation, the various tree species in the park peak at a different time, so some color is to be found anytime from late October to November, with the most interesting foliage color occurring later in the month.

Rockies

Unlike the Eastern mountains, the tops of the Rocky mountains are too high and rocky to support deciduous forests, which are rather found in the lower elevation valleys. Those forests do not offer the color variety of the Eastern Hardwoods. However, the groves of aspen shimmer with an incredibly bright yellow color at their peak – which is much more brief than in the Eastern forest, as high winds can cause all the leaves to fall overnight to the ground.

Grand Tetons Spectacular groves of aspen peak in the last two weeks of September, centered in the broad and flat Jackson Hole Valley. Particularly scenic locations include Jenny Lake, and Oxbow bend, where the trees are reflected in blue waters, with towering peaks in the background. It is also a great time to observe Elk and Moose amongst the crimson brush and willows.

Glacier: Fall foliage is found throughout the park, and there is a larger variety of trees than in other Rocky Mountain parks, including Rocky Mountain maple and Western larch. The west side of the park changes color starting in mid-September, with deciduous trees mixed with evergreen, while on the dryer east side, more solid color patches appear towards the end of September. In mid-October, the larch trees growing at higher elevation turn gold. More: Photographing Fall Foliage in Glacier National Park.

Rocky Mountain: Groves of aspen, alternating with vast stretches evergreens, color the flanks of the mountains at lower elevation during the two last weeks of September. Places to look for color include Glacier Basin, the slopes that border the meadows (locally called “parks”), and opposite the Old Fall River Road. More: An Iconic Lake and Nondescript Aspens: Revisiting the Bear Lake Road.

Great Sand Dunes : Cottonwoods grow along the Medano Creek along the dunes. Aspens are found at higher elevations on the Sangre De Cristo Mountains in the National Preserve. They are accessible with a high-clearance 4WD vehicle through the Medano Pass road. Colors peak late September to early October. More: A Most Tricky Scenic Drive: the Medano Pass Road

Theodore Roosevelt: Unlike in the barren South Dakota Badlands, trees grow in the rugged North Dakota Badlands. In particular, the shores of the Little Missouri River, in the North Unit, are lined with aspens that turn yellow by the end of September.

Southwest

The Southwest is a desert, which at first does not sound like such a great place to look for trees. Indeed, many of the parks of this area do not feature any significant color, apart from cottonwood trees in washes, canyon bottoms, or along rivers. However, some narrow canyons create micro-climates that sometimes allow a surprising variety of deciduous trees to thrive. If you add to this the fact that higher elevation plateaus and mountains are often doted with aspens, the icon of the Western fall foliage, some of those parks unexpectedly harbor the most diverse foliage color in the West.

Zion: Thanks to the Virgin River and other streams, Zion is an oasis in the desert. The aspens on the high plateaus turn yellow at the end of September, however the most interesting display occurs later in the deeply shaded canyons. Unlike most of places in the West, red and maple trees grow there, adding a bright touch by late October to early November. The lower water level makes it easier to hike the Narrows, where trees grow on the tiny banks of the Virgin River. The Emerald Pool area is another good place to look for varied colors.

Guadalupe Mountains Within its canyons and oases, in particular, Pine Spring Canyon, McKitterick Canyon, and Smith Springs, a surprisingly large variety of trees with bright red, yellow, and burgundy colors rival the eastern hardwoods. They make an odd juxtaposition with the desert vegetation when the color peaks, at the beginning of November.

Capitol Reef: Although the park is more known for its variety of geological formations revealed by the bare terrain (fall provides the best conditions for exploring backcountry roads), it is also an oasis in the desert with the historic orchard at Fruita and cottonwoods along the Freemont river. Their color, which peaks in early November, harmonizes with the red sandstone cliffs.

Great Basin: During the last week of September, pockets of aspen groves are found on the upper portion of Wheeler Peak drive, as well as in side canyons such as Windy Canyon.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison: Shrubs (such as oak scrub) growing along the rim turn in late September. There are also a few isolated aspen groves along the Oak Flat loop trail and the drive to East Portal. More: Photographing Oak Flat and Warner Point Trails in Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park.

Grand Canyon: While the South Rim vegetation of pines and junipers is not deciduous, the higher North Rim is rimmed with aspens that turn yellow during the second half of September.

Mesa Verde: Certainly not a place you’d think about for fall foliage, especially since due to high elevation, the mesas that are home to the ruins are dominated by conifers. However, the mesas at lower elevation, from the park entrance to Far View, are covered with shrubs that unexpectedly turn the whole landscape crimson towards the end of September. More: Looking for fall colors in unexpected places.

Arches: The desert vegetation around the arches is not deciduous, but there is one canyon experience in the park, at Courthouse Wash. The riparian plant communities along the stream include cottonwoods that peak from late October to early November. You can photograph them from the bridge, but for a much more rewarding experience, follow the wash downstream using a social trail that you are likely to have all to yourself.

Canyonlands : The desert vegetation on the plateaus is not deciduous. However, the Green and Colorado River are lined up with riparian plant communities that peak in late October. It is a tough hike or 4WD drive to get to the river, but it is easily accessed by jetboat from Moab. Canyon bottoms such as Horseshoe Canyon and the Maze contain stands of cottonwood trees as well.

Bryce Canyon: Due to high elevation, the park is dominated by conifers, however, with a lot of hiking, a few pockets of deciduous trees can be found, mostly along the creeks below the rim.

Pacific Coast and Mountains

The western mountain forests are generally dominated by conifers. In the Sierras, large aspen groves tend to grow in the dry Eastern flanks, outside of the National Parks, while the same can be said of Western Larch trees in the Cascade Mountains. Tree colors are mostly confined to small pockets. However, at more northern latitudes of Washington, the berry plants can turn the whole ground red at sub-alpine elevations, while at lower elevations vine maples provide orange touches not found in California. Lower elevation forests comprise deciduous trees that provide brilliant but localized, pockets of color.

Mount Rainier: Alpine meadows such as Paradise are full of berry plants that peak on the last week of September, rivaling in color the wildflower displays of the summer. Vine maple can be found at lower elevations, for instance along Stevens Canyon. More: Mount Rainier National Park new images: fall foliage, Autumn in the Rain, Mount Rainier NP.

North Cascades: Berry plants at higher elevations, and maple at lower elevations peak on the last week of September. During the month of October, the needles of the Western Larch, a deciduous conifer with a narrow geographic range, found on the eastern side of the park, turn a bright yellow. More: North Cascades National Park New Images- Fall Foliage, An Autumn Visit to Stehekin, North Cascades Alpine larch at night.

Olympic: The subalpine meadows are thick with bluberries, whose leaves turn a deep scarlet at the beginning of October. In mid/late October, maples (both bigleaf and vine) add a powerful color accent to the dark west side rain forests. Sol Duc has also beautiful color that can peak a bit later. More: Photographing Fall foliage in Olympic National Park.

Yosemite: Besides a couple of often-photographed non-native trees, colors in the Valley are mostly provided by yellow maples, red dogwoods (peaking early October), and the oak trees (peaking early November) that line up some meadows, my favorite being El Capitan Meadows. Except for sparse maples and dogwoods, and the berry plants in places such as Siesta Lake, there isn’t much foliage color in the high country.

Kings Canyon: The Cedar Grove area of Kings Canyon is somewhat similar to Yosemite Valley, with generally less fall color. Pockets of maples and dogwoods add a color accent to the forests in October.

Sequoia: The lower elevation foothills are covered with many blue oak trees that peak in November. In late October, dogwoods add a color accent to the groves, while ferns color the meadows within Giant Forest. More: Photographing Fall Foliage in Sequoia National Park

Pinnacles: The park has no large deciduous forests, however good places to look for pockets of colors include Chalone Creek in Bear Valley (cottonwoods) and Bear Gulch between the nature center and Bear Valley (sycamores).

Alaska

At the Arctic circle, spring, summer, and autumn last about one month each, with the rest of the year being winter. Fall arrives earlier than elsewhere on the continent, as early as mid-August at higher elevations in Gates of the Arctic National Park. What distinguishes the Alaska autumn is the vast expense of tundra. While at more meridional locations, the color is mostly on tree leaves, in Alaska, the entire ground can turn shades of yellow and red.

Denali: Autumn comes between the last week of August and the first week of September with particularly spectacular tundra colors, in particular towards the end of the paved road, and past Elieson Visitor center up to Wonder Lake. Look at the tundra to see how the size of the plants diminishes as the elevation increases. The Riley Creek drainage near the entrance of the park has many aspens mixed with evergreens.

Lake Clark: The eastern part of the park features extensive tundra terrain that turns burgundy in the first week of September, followed by birch trees at lower elevations. However, the weather on the Alaska Peninsula can be quite wet in the fall. More: Lake Clark National Park on the Go

Gates of the Arctic, Kobuk Valley, By mid-August, the tundra turns red at higher elevations, lower elevations (such as the Kobuk River Valley), which also include aspen, peak at the end of the month, which coincides with the fall caribou migration, one of the great wildlife happenings in Alaska. More: A Backpacking trip into the Arrigetch Peaks, Gates of the Arctic National Park.

Wrangell-St.Elias: Numerous aspens can be found along the last section of the McCarthy Road, either on mountainsides or in the valley. They turn yellow at the beginning of September.

Katmai: Although the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes is barren, the area around Brooks Camp is riparian with plenty of deciduous vegetation that peak in the middle of September – a good time to see the bears without the crowds. The trail to Dumpling Mountain provides easy access to the tundra that turns at the same time. More: More Than Bears at Brooks Camp: the Dumpling Mountain Trail, Katmai National Park.

Kenai Fjords: Exit Glacier is one of the most accessible spots in all of Alaska’s national parks, and aspens on the floodplain and at its base turn in early September.

See pictures of National Parks Fall color foliage.

Any favorites that I missed? Please comment!

updated Aug 18, 2003

A few weeks ago, we ventured into the northernmost of the Florida Keys, Elliott Key in Biscayne National Park. Today, we visit the Key situated at the opposite end of the chain. Dry Tortugas National Park, 70 miles of Key West, Florida, like Biscayne is mostly an underwater park. The land area consists of seven diminutive islets, totaling only 40 acres of sand.

Few people visit Dry Tortugas, because of its remote location, however it is a unique place with one unexpected sight. There are two ways to visit Dry Tortugas National Park: by ferry, or by seaplane.

For my first visit to Dry Tortugas, in December 1997, I wanted to see the islets from the air, since this would provide an interesting perspective on this very flat terrain. At that time I was still so fond of large format photography that I tried to shoot everything with my 5×7 camera, including aerials. I have to confess that lacking the experience and technique of a Brad Washburn or William Garnet, none of those images turned out to be even competent. This helped teach me “horses for courses”, using the right camera for each situation.

The big downside was that while a trip by ferry would have let me spend five hours on the main island, Garden Key, or even camp overnight, the trip by plane gave me only a little over two hours there (note: as of 2010, full day plane trips are available, but they cost twice as much). The island is so small that if I was just sightseeing, I could easily see every nook and cranny of it in that time, however photographing it was another matter. Since the park has two components, nature and history, I tried to capture both. I first focused on the Caribbean atmosphere on the sandy beaches, then rushed inside Fort Jefferson, the massive brick structure (largest in the Western Hemisphere) that takes up much of the surface area of Garden Key, and milled around the courtyard and galleries, looking without much success for a defining image of the place.

The fort is so large that two-thirds of it drops directly into the water, just protected from the ocean by a low seawall, the spot that I had missed, because of its unusual position. With less than ten minutes left before the departure time, as I took a quick look there, I saw instantly the image that captured what I felt to be the essence of the location: the geometric meeting of the luminous sky, turquoise waters and the brick walls, at the same time so incongruous, but so integrated into this environment, with the slight curve of the seawall leading the eye into the image. As there was not enough time left for a large format photograph, I settled for a quick shot with my 35mm camera, already planning to come back by ferry.

Since this blitz trip I’ve returned three times to the tiny Dry Tortugas. This particular spot has become my favorite in the park, almost a “signature image”. The seawall may look symmetric, but I prefer that particular corner (situated NW) of the fort for shooting mid-day, or the previous one (situated W) for shooting at sunset, because of the open views over water, and the angle under which the sun strikes the wall. Others just don’t work as well for me. The West corner has the advantage of being un-interupted, while the North-West corner has an opening which allows the water to flow between the moat and the ocean, which can be distracting while shooting with a very wide angle lens. At sunrise on the East side of the fort, because of the orientation of the walls, it is not possible to get good cross-lighting. This leaves mid-day to sunset as the best time to photograph on the West and North-West side.

Despite photographing there on each of my subsequent trips, I have not been able to duplicate the mid-day “quick shot” taken on my first sight of the moat. Not that nature hasn’t been generous in her variety: I’ve witnessed overcast days, stormy days with gale-force winds, sunny days with clouds. However, only an almost cloudless day (that some declare to be uninteresting) with a mid-winter sun made it possible to create the stark and minimal composition with the pointed shadow that initially caught my eye. As the year progresses, the higher position of the sun produces a shadow that becomes less and less interesting. It is still acceptable in late winter, but in summer is just too flat.

On my third trip to the island, an unexpected storm moved in. As waves washed over the seawall, I had no choice but to create a monochromatic composition with a long exposure, at dusk. Because of the cloudy sky, sunset and night photographs would have to wait for a fourth trip, which I made in the summer of 2013.

Which one is your favorite ?

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