Forrest Gump Point

Author's Comments

The frame composes itself. That is the first thing to understand about this stretch of 163, that the photograph is essentially already made and you are only there to receive it. The road runs arrow straight toward the buttes, the yellow center line pulls the eye exactly where it wants to go, and the formations rise out of the desert floor in that improbable way that still looks like a matte painting even when you are standing in front of it. Morning is when I would come. Early enough that the sandstone is just beginning to warm and the air is still cold in the shadow of the mesas. The buttes face roughly east, which means the light hits them frontally just after sunrise and the red comes up slowly, like something developing in a tray. By mid-morning the contrast flattens and the photograph loses its weight. A telephoto changes everything here. The wide shot is the one everyone makes and it is fine, it is the shot, but a longer lens stacks the buttes closer to the road and the compression turns the image into something almost graphic. The road becomes a ribbon. The formations become a wall. A word about the road itself. It is active. Cars come through faster than you expect and the shoulder is not generous. I have stood in the middle of that highway for the photograph and I have also watched a pickup come over the rise behind me sooner than I was ready for. Make your image and step off. The buttes will still be there.

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