Papago Park

Author's Comments

Papago is not a quiet park. It sits in the middle of the city, the freeway hums in the distance, and on any given evening the climb up to Hole-in-the-Rock will put you shoulder to shoulder with families, tripods, couples, dogs. I have made my peace with this. The formation is what it is, and what it is happens to be remarkable - a wind-carved opening in red sandstone that frames the western sky as if it were designed for the purpose. November is when I prefer it. The summer heat has finally broken, the air goes clear in a way it never quite does in August, and the light at golden hour turns the buttes a color that does not exist anywhere else I have photographed. Phoenix from this angle becomes almost beautiful - the downtown towers small and silvered against the Estrellas, the palms in the foreground catching the last warmth, the rock itself glowing like something lit from within. Get there early. Thirty minutes before sunset is the minimum, and on a Saturday in good weather I would say forty-five. The opening in the rock is small and the good positions inside it fill quickly. I have learned to bring a wide lens and a longer one both, because the frame-within-a-frame composition is the obvious photograph and worth making, but the buttes themselves at the moment the sun drops behind South Mountain are the photograph I actually keep. The light goes from gold to rose to a deep ember red in maybe twelve minutes, and then it is gone. Stay through the fade. Most people leave at sunset and miss the better color.

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