Rebecca Wilks

Rebecca Wilks; Photographer, Teacher, Yarnellian, Do-Gooder

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Six Dollars a Pop



Sunrise Above Lake Pleasant AZ

I didn’t realize there was a pattern until yesterday, when I pulled the cash out of my pocket for a third time.  I discovered that I was touring the Maricopa County Parks in my quest for wildflowers.


For the record, the County parks do have an annual pass, but at $85, I’d have to make 15 trips to make the purchase worthwhile.  Perhaps their discount books are more appealing;

            3 coupons for $15 (a $3 saving)

5 coupons for $24 (a $6 saving)

10 coupons for $45 (a $15 saving)



When other responsibilities keep me from an actual road trip, day trips must do.  Actually, Spring is a great time to be in the desert, close to home.


I find that things change quickly in the spring and strive to be nimble in my planning. Here are some great resources with fresh information about which areas which are in bloom.  






Here’s a sampling of what I found;




Poppies, Estrella Mountain Park AZ
 
Cactus and Phacelia, Estrella Mountain Park AZ


Phacelia, White Tanks

Backlighted Poppy, White Tanks





Poppy and Lupine, Lake Pleasant

Poppy carpet, Lake Pleasant

 There's more from this Spring on the website.

Thursday, February 16, 2017

Some Kind of Magic


Middle School Girls, Colegio Preuniversitario, Quetzaltenango, Guatemala

Bumping down a dirt road on a COED trip, toward a primary school in Chimazat, Guatemala, one of the other Rotarians in the vehicle asked me how I got into photography.

I told her that I’d started with 35mm Black and White work as a teenager, got distracted in College, and picked it up again with the new wave of digital cameras in the late 1990s.

My first digital camera was made by Sony.  They called it the Mavica.  It was a 0.6 megapixel wonder which stored photos on a 3.5” floppy (1.44 MB).  It was some kind of magic.  No film, no restraint.

Of course, the resolution was rather low, but it was my gateway drug.

Student, Las Rosas School, Chitay, Guatemala
The kids in rural Guatemala are getting increasingly savvy to technology. Mostly, that’s because mobile phones are ubiquitous; I’ve heard that there are twice as many mobiles as people there.  Land lines just never got out to the tiny villages so they skipped that step.  

Sweet Goodbyes, El Yalu Primary School, Sumpango, Guatemala
Even so, one of the best ways to engage shy kids there is to take their picture (this works best with a small group of friends) and show it to them on the camera LCD.   Judging from their reactions, you’d think it was, in fact, magic.  The second shot is always better.

Volcan Fuego erupting with star trails
I also had a chance to photograph the active volcano called Fuego at night.  After two hours waiting, our guide urged patience.  He was right because we did eventually see one spectacular eruption.  Night photography requires long exposures, among other things, so I only got one chance at this 25 second shot.  Afterward it was all smoke.  Looking at the LCD afterward I felt the same magic as those first Mavica shots.

It’s my joy to invoke this magic whenever I can and my hope that it serves as an inspiration.

Everyone can't be happy, El Yalu Primary School, Sumpango, Guatemala


Thursday, January 26, 2017

The Memory of Water




Badlands, Death Valley
 Sometimes, traveling in Death Valley National Park, a phrase comes into my head, “the memory of water.”  The better part of a year can go by without significant precipitation.  The average yearly rainfall in the Furnace Creek area is less than 2 inches.  Wherever I look, though, is desiccated evidence of its effects; slot canyons, eroded washes, salt polygons and cracked mud flats.

I’ve even complained about endless stretches of days without photogenic clouds in the sky.

Predawn Earth Shadow, Cottonball Basin, Death Valley
This last trip, it rained.  And rained. I was camping with friends and we had about 1 ½ days of lovely weather.  There were also two full days of rain with the kind of socked-in overcast that sucks the color and texture right out of the landscape. Normally, I’d hit the canyons and shoot details there.  I’m a desert girl, though, and I just can’t do that when there’s a flash flood risk.  Even on clear days, I find myself looking for the nearest escape route in such places.

Storm Over Mosaic Canyon, Death Valley
Napping, reading, cleaning the camper, and working on the computer is good for a half day, but by then I was antsy; wandering (sloshing) around Stovepipe Wells in my rain gear. Here I heard the 20-something explaining to his dad about how he hydroplaned and totaled the car and watched ambulances screaming west toward snow-covered passes. There was one image opportunity, of the storm breaking up over Mosaic Canyon.  Lovely, but perhaps not a full day’s work.

Water.  Lots of water in real time.

Meanwhile my photo friends are making dazzling images in the snow at the Grand Canyon and Watson Lake (Prescott).

I remind myself of the privilege of spending time in this spectacular park.  It heals me, and it’s showing me an unusual face.

Sunrise at Badwater, Death Valley
Violent winds woke me at 1:00 AM on my last day.  I scrambled to bring down the camper top and ran around in my sheep jammies closing the external clips so it would stay down in the gale.  The camper doesn’t move nearly as much in the wind this way, and I got back to sleep on the dinette bed just fine.  We scooted over to Badwater Basin that morning.  Hoping for reflected color in the puddles among the salt polygons kept us slogging against the wind, out a mile and a half or so to the relatively undisturbed parts of the basin.  I might not see these rare conditions again; standing water, colorful clouds, and snow on the Panamint Mountains to the west.

These things are tough to predict, but perhaps we’ll have another impressive bloom this spring, thanks to all this rain, and the memory of water.

More images from this trip are in the Winter2016-17 Gallery on the website.