A popular postcard photographer once advised me that people like photos of places and things they are familiar with. They like the photos of these things and places at the times of day they could or would have seen them–and when and where he photographed according to these guidelines would usually become his most best-selling postcards.
I cannot do that to myself. The sun makes me squint and hurts my eyes. The heat makes me sweat, and feel uncomfortable. The proliferation of jabbering people, God love ’em, give me a headache.
I like, I am familiar with; getting up early and walking in the desert during the deep blue light, the drone of the darkness and then a silence and wholeness, like the apex of a breath marking the beginning of day proper, experiencing the virtual changing of colors in the sky and on the landscape of a rising sun, and later, maybe the drama of dark clouds and potential of a storm in the wilderness sweeping over a rock strewn relict of wind-twisted juniper and gray-brown scrub … These are the places and things I like, and at the time of day I prefer–well, sunset also. However, that is a different dance, entirely.
Joshua Tree National Park