Tim Speer's Blog - Posts Tagged "nature"
Planes, Feet and Automobiles
If you have noticed my absence of posts lately, it is because I have been busy traveling, often in areas with no cell service or internet. Over the past seventeen days I have flown twenty-five hundred miles, driven four thousand miles, and hiked fifty miles. During this travel, I have been blessed to see some of the most beautiful country God has created. The places I visited include the Grand Tetons, Yellowstone, Glacier National Park, the Columbia River Gorge, Crater Lake, the Redwood Forrest, Yosemite, and the California coast. I traveled and hiked among high, snow capped mountains; steaming geysers; lush, green valleys; cascading waterfalls; jagged, glacial carved peaks; winding canyons; towering, majestic Redwood trees; and cliff lined shores, I walked where buffalo, elk, moose, deer, and Grizzly bears still roam freely. Throughout my travel I was truly humbled as I was continually awed by what I saw, and contemplated how amazing and awesome God's creation really is.
Some say that the best way to appreciate such places is purely to look, and not try to understand . That to have how they came to be explained to you takes away from the wonder of it. However, as someone with a background in geology, and who has a pretty good understanding of how these places were formed; to contemplate how great the forces of the earth that formed these places are, and the numerous stages of development and vast amounts of time involved; fills me with an even greater sense of awe and wonder at how amazing God's creation really is.
As much territory as my trip covered, it barely scratched the surface of all the beautiful and wonderful places there are to visit in this country, let alone the world. And the reality is, I didn't even cover the areas I traveled through very thoroughly. When writing about Glacier National Park, John Muir said “Give a month at least to this precious reserve. The time will not be taken from the sum of your life.
Instead of shortening, it will indefinitely lengthen it and make you truly immortal." This is true of most of these places.
And then there are the vast reaches of space. A modest sized telescope and a dark sky are sufficient to reveal wonders that one could spend years exploring. The size and grandeur of the universe is greater than most people can begin to comprehend. To think about the vastness of space and time, and the terrific forces at work is to feel extremely small and insignificant. To think about the God that was able to conceive and create it, is to realize how awesome and powerful he really is. To think that this great and powerful God loves and cares for someone as insignificant as me, is the most amazing and humbling feeling of all.
Some say that the best way to appreciate such places is purely to look, and not try to understand . That to have how they came to be explained to you takes away from the wonder of it. However, as someone with a background in geology, and who has a pretty good understanding of how these places were formed; to contemplate how great the forces of the earth that formed these places are, and the numerous stages of development and vast amounts of time involved; fills me with an even greater sense of awe and wonder at how amazing God's creation really is.
As much territory as my trip covered, it barely scratched the surface of all the beautiful and wonderful places there are to visit in this country, let alone the world. And the reality is, I didn't even cover the areas I traveled through very thoroughly. When writing about Glacier National Park, John Muir said “Give a month at least to this precious reserve. The time will not be taken from the sum of your life.
Instead of shortening, it will indefinitely lengthen it and make you truly immortal." This is true of most of these places.
And then there are the vast reaches of space. A modest sized telescope and a dark sky are sufficient to reveal wonders that one could spend years exploring. The size and grandeur of the universe is greater than most people can begin to comprehend. To think about the vastness of space and time, and the terrific forces at work is to feel extremely small and insignificant. To think about the God that was able to conceive and create it, is to realize how awesome and powerful he really is. To think that this great and powerful God loves and cares for someone as insignificant as me, is the most amazing and humbling feeling of all.
The Window
Author Mary Lasswell once wrote, "I am forced to conclude that God made Texas on his day off, for pure entertainment, just to prove that all that diversity could be crammed into one section of earth by a really top hand.” The same could actually be said for that not so little corner of Texas known as Big Bend. In Big Bend you will find lots of desert areas, with more species of cactus than I could easily list. But you will also find steep walled canyons; and mountains with Junipers, Pine, and alpine meadows. Wildlife ranges from rattle snakes, javelina and roadrunners; to white tail deer, mountain lions and black bears. Big Bend contains the second highest peak in Texas, Emory Peak with an elevation of 7,825 feet. In the far eastern part of Big Bend, down by the Rio Grande River, the elevation is just over 1,800 feet. The difference in temperature between the two can exceed twenty degrees Fahrenheit. The scenery is as spectacular as it is varied.
Big Bend is located along the Mexican border in far southwest Texas, and gets its name from the big curve the Rio Grande River makes there. It’s out of the way of anywhere you would want to go. If you end up there, it’s because you intended to go there.
Located roughly in the middle of Big Bend National Park, is a small group of mountains known as the Chisos Mountains. It is here that you find the alpine meadows, and Emory Peak. Leaving the main road, at an elevation of about 4,000 feet, one begins a slow ascent up into the mountains. As the road approaches the crest of Panther Pass, it makes a big hairpin curve. About a quarter-mile later you hit the crest of Panther Pass at an elevation of 5,770 feet. As the road begins its descent, it takes a series of switch backs. Rounding the first hairpin curve, the area known as “The Basin” comes into view below. The Basin is a roughly oval-shaped meadow area in the central part of the Chisos Mountains. It is surrounded by rugged mountains made up of reddish colored volcanic rock. When hit by the early morning, or late afternoon sun, these mountains actually appear to glow. Looking to the left, at the east end of The Basin, one sees the side of Casa Grande, a 7,170 foot, sheer faced mountain, that seems to stand guard over The Basin. And then, looking out to the west, at the far end of The Basin, you begin to see it...The Window.
The best views of The Window will come when you have completed your descent into The Basin. Topographically, The Basin slopes downward from east to west. A small, usually dry stream bed runs through the middle. Once carrying more water, this stream cut a canyon through the west wall of the mountains. The result is a prominent “V” shaped gap that gives one a view out to the surrounding desert, and smaller mountains. Here, in the middle of one of the most diverse places on earth, the mountains, the desert, and the sky all come together in one grand view. It’s truly a masterpiece created by the Master Creator.
The view through The Window is absolutely breathtaking. Just the same, in a park full of spectacular views, The Window may not be the most spectacular of them. But it is the most compelling. You cannot drive into The Basin without looking out through The Window. If you camp in the campground there, when you come outside of your tent or camper, you will look out at The Window. If you stay at the Lodge, when you come outside of your room, you will look out at The Window. The restaurant at the Lodge has a big picture window along the western wall. The view, of course looks out towards The Window. If you eat there, you will spend half your meal looking out at The Window. And, if you have any type of camera, you will most likely take a picture of The Window.
Call it the ultimate picture window. As if its view weren’t compelling enough, its location at the west end of The Basin provides for some spectacular sunset views. This helps ensure that it is probably one of the most photographed features in the park. However, I’m not sure that it wouldn’t still be the most photographed even without the sunsets. As you move around The Basin, and the surrounding mountains, either by car, or by foot on the many trails there, you are constantly given a new perspective of The Window. Each one just as compelling as the other. But it doesn’t end there. Come back to the park some day and, if you have a camera, you will very likely take even more photos of The Window. I have been to Big Bend so many times over the years that I have lost count. At least thirty, and quite possibly over forty. And I'm not sure that there were any of these trips on which I failed to take at least one picture of The Window. If there were, there weren’t very many. And, it usually rewards me with something a little different each time.
Whenever I go to Big Bend, I’m always filled with anticipation, waiting for that first view of The Window as I descend into The Basin. And whenever I leave, as I drive out of The Basin, I’ll always stop at that last hairpin curve for one last view of The Window. As I drive down the mountain, I pray two things. The first is to thank God for having been able to see such a beautiful piece of his creation. The second, is that I may someday, again be able to come back.
Big Bend is located along the Mexican border in far southwest Texas, and gets its name from the big curve the Rio Grande River makes there. It’s out of the way of anywhere you would want to go. If you end up there, it’s because you intended to go there.
Located roughly in the middle of Big Bend National Park, is a small group of mountains known as the Chisos Mountains. It is here that you find the alpine meadows, and Emory Peak. Leaving the main road, at an elevation of about 4,000 feet, one begins a slow ascent up into the mountains. As the road approaches the crest of Panther Pass, it makes a big hairpin curve. About a quarter-mile later you hit the crest of Panther Pass at an elevation of 5,770 feet. As the road begins its descent, it takes a series of switch backs. Rounding the first hairpin curve, the area known as “The Basin” comes into view below. The Basin is a roughly oval-shaped meadow area in the central part of the Chisos Mountains. It is surrounded by rugged mountains made up of reddish colored volcanic rock. When hit by the early morning, or late afternoon sun, these mountains actually appear to glow. Looking to the left, at the east end of The Basin, one sees the side of Casa Grande, a 7,170 foot, sheer faced mountain, that seems to stand guard over The Basin. And then, looking out to the west, at the far end of The Basin, you begin to see it...The Window.
The best views of The Window will come when you have completed your descent into The Basin. Topographically, The Basin slopes downward from east to west. A small, usually dry stream bed runs through the middle. Once carrying more water, this stream cut a canyon through the west wall of the mountains. The result is a prominent “V” shaped gap that gives one a view out to the surrounding desert, and smaller mountains. Here, in the middle of one of the most diverse places on earth, the mountains, the desert, and the sky all come together in one grand view. It’s truly a masterpiece created by the Master Creator.
The view through The Window is absolutely breathtaking. Just the same, in a park full of spectacular views, The Window may not be the most spectacular of them. But it is the most compelling. You cannot drive into The Basin without looking out through The Window. If you camp in the campground there, when you come outside of your tent or camper, you will look out at The Window. If you stay at the Lodge, when you come outside of your room, you will look out at The Window. The restaurant at the Lodge has a big picture window along the western wall. The view, of course looks out towards The Window. If you eat there, you will spend half your meal looking out at The Window. And, if you have any type of camera, you will most likely take a picture of The Window.
Call it the ultimate picture window. As if its view weren’t compelling enough, its location at the west end of The Basin provides for some spectacular sunset views. This helps ensure that it is probably one of the most photographed features in the park. However, I’m not sure that it wouldn’t still be the most photographed even without the sunsets. As you move around The Basin, and the surrounding mountains, either by car, or by foot on the many trails there, you are constantly given a new perspective of The Window. Each one just as compelling as the other. But it doesn’t end there. Come back to the park some day and, if you have a camera, you will very likely take even more photos of The Window. I have been to Big Bend so many times over the years that I have lost count. At least thirty, and quite possibly over forty. And I'm not sure that there were any of these trips on which I failed to take at least one picture of The Window. If there were, there weren’t very many. And, it usually rewards me with something a little different each time.
Whenever I go to Big Bend, I’m always filled with anticipation, waiting for that first view of The Window as I descend into The Basin. And whenever I leave, as I drive out of The Basin, I’ll always stop at that last hairpin curve for one last view of The Window. As I drive down the mountain, I pray two things. The first is to thank God for having been able to see such a beautiful piece of his creation. The second, is that I may someday, again be able to come back.
The Failure of Photography
Those who know me, know that I love photography. And I especially love landscape photography. In my photography, I have two primary things helping me. The first of these is the many beautiful places that God has created, which I have been blessed to be able to see. Having a beautiful landscape makes taking pictures that people will like a lot easier. The second thing is I truly feel that, through the Holy Spirit, God often inspires me, leading me to take better pictures than I otherwise would. On the negative side, I don't have quite the talent that other photographers do. In addition to that, as opposed to professional photographers, as well as many more serious amateur photographers, I am what I call a photographer of opportunity. That is to say that when I visit places, photography isn't usually my primary purpose for being there, and I am generally at a given place for a relatively short period of time. Thus I have to take advantage of the opportunities I am presented with, dealing with the conditions as they exist. However, professional photographers, as well as many more serious amateur photographers, often go places specifically to photograph them. And they will plan their visits, and take the time, to capture their subject matter in the most favorable lighting and weather conditions. Thus, they often will be able to capture shots that I will never have the opportunity to take.
All of that said, I have come to the conclusion that all photography fails to a given extent. That is, it fails to fully capture the magnificence of the subject matter. Good photographers can often take truly beautiful pictures. And many can even take pictures that elicit an emotional response. However even at that, they can often only capture a glimpse of the true magnificence of what they are photographing. There is simply no way to fully capture the true magnitude and beauty that exists there.
One reason for this failing is due to pure optical physics. There are many places that it is simply impossible to capture the true magnitude and scale of. Particularly when displayed on any scale that a photograph might be displayed on. Even if it is printed on a wall poster. Take the Grand Canyon, which is up to a mile deep and eighteen miles wide. Or the South Rim of the Chisos Basin, where there are places that one has one-hundred-and-eighty degree views that extend for over thirty miles in any given direction. There is simply no physical way to give the viewer of a photograph that sense of magnitude and distance. Even if one takes a series of photographs and combines them in a panoramic photograph. The viewer might get a sense of the vastness, but the resulting height to width ratio of the panoramic photograph will actually diminish the vertical perspective.
Another reason that photography cannot fully capture the magnificence of many places is that it deals in only one of the senses - sight. It can't capture the sound of a hawk echoing through the walls of the Grand Canyon. Or the smell of flowers as one hikes through the valleys of Glacier National Park. Or the feel of a gentle cool breeze as one stands in amazement among the Red Woods, watching the late afternoon sun filter down through the trees to the fern covered ground.
A final reason that a photograph simply can't capture the true magnificence of many places is that part of that magnificence is purely spiritual. Sure, as I mentioned, there are photographers who can take pictures that elicit emotional responses. However, the emotional response that one may have when viewing a photograph is different from the actual spiritual experience of being there. Stand or sit quietly at any of the aforementioned places, and it is truly a spiritual experience. I remember getting up on Christmas morning last year. I was in the Chisos Mountain Basin in Big Bend National Park. To the west, a full moon was setting directly down through the Window. While at the same time, to the east, the sun was lighting up the clouds over Casa Grande, coloring them a bright red. It was a three-hundred-and-sixty degree display that was more magnificent than any photograph I might take could hope to convey. But there was much more to it than that. At that moment, I truly felt a oneness with God. It was as if God himself was saying "Merry Christmas, this is the gift I have created for you." And that's the way it often is. It may not be Christmas, but God is still there, saying "Look at the beauty I have created for you to see. This is a sign of my love for you."
All of that said, I have come to the conclusion that all photography fails to a given extent. That is, it fails to fully capture the magnificence of the subject matter. Good photographers can often take truly beautiful pictures. And many can even take pictures that elicit an emotional response. However even at that, they can often only capture a glimpse of the true magnificence of what they are photographing. There is simply no way to fully capture the true magnitude and beauty that exists there.
One reason for this failing is due to pure optical physics. There are many places that it is simply impossible to capture the true magnitude and scale of. Particularly when displayed on any scale that a photograph might be displayed on. Even if it is printed on a wall poster. Take the Grand Canyon, which is up to a mile deep and eighteen miles wide. Or the South Rim of the Chisos Basin, where there are places that one has one-hundred-and-eighty degree views that extend for over thirty miles in any given direction. There is simply no physical way to give the viewer of a photograph that sense of magnitude and distance. Even if one takes a series of photographs and combines them in a panoramic photograph. The viewer might get a sense of the vastness, but the resulting height to width ratio of the panoramic photograph will actually diminish the vertical perspective.
Another reason that photography cannot fully capture the magnificence of many places is that it deals in only one of the senses - sight. It can't capture the sound of a hawk echoing through the walls of the Grand Canyon. Or the smell of flowers as one hikes through the valleys of Glacier National Park. Or the feel of a gentle cool breeze as one stands in amazement among the Red Woods, watching the late afternoon sun filter down through the trees to the fern covered ground.
A final reason that a photograph simply can't capture the true magnificence of many places is that part of that magnificence is purely spiritual. Sure, as I mentioned, there are photographers who can take pictures that elicit emotional responses. However, the emotional response that one may have when viewing a photograph is different from the actual spiritual experience of being there. Stand or sit quietly at any of the aforementioned places, and it is truly a spiritual experience. I remember getting up on Christmas morning last year. I was in the Chisos Mountain Basin in Big Bend National Park. To the west, a full moon was setting directly down through the Window. While at the same time, to the east, the sun was lighting up the clouds over Casa Grande, coloring them a bright red. It was a three-hundred-and-sixty degree display that was more magnificent than any photograph I might take could hope to convey. But there was much more to it than that. At that moment, I truly felt a oneness with God. It was as if God himself was saying "Merry Christmas, this is the gift I have created for you." And that's the way it often is. It may not be Christmas, but God is still there, saying "Look at the beauty I have created for you to see. This is a sign of my love for you."
