Joshua Tree Park at Dawn

On a recent trip to visit with my mother and grandfather in the Phoenix area, we, living in the Los Angeles area, decided that it would be great to camp out at Joshua Tree National Park. The idea would be to be able to wake up early and take a load of pictures at dawn. Turns out that schedules made that plan impossible.

The next best thing, we figured, would be to leave our apartment and make the drive to the southern entrance, directly off of Interstate 10--almost halfway between our apartment and our final destination--and enter the park with enough time to see some things as daybreak turned to dawn.

This plan would sate both our desire for nice photographs and getting to Phoenix early enough for an evening preseason ballgame. The only wrinkle: we had to leave at 3:30. In the morning. Which meant we had to go to sleep around 8 (actually ten after nine, but we were close).

I did the driving so the missus could sleep. The patchwork of LA freeways (the 710 to the 91 to the 60 to the 10) sped by with as little traffic as you'd probably ever find out here (lots, but fast moving). By the time w2e made the park's entrance, day was just beginning to break in the east, the inky black sky barely fading to dark indigo at the horizon.

We drove for what seemed like a time into the park, and eventually pulled into a let-out. We got out to stretch and breathe in the crisp air. It was glorious and silent.

The wind wasn't blowing yet--the sun hadn't heated the ground and air, causing air pressure changes and wind. One thing really struck me: the sound. Rather, the lack of sound.

The silence was enveloping as the indigo started to blue, and then the blue started to overthrow the black as the orange began to push.

In the few minutes that it took to go from day-breaking to dawn-starting an incredible thing happened. So innocuous when you live in a large city that you never notice, unless you have either a sleep disorder or (more fun and tragic) drug problem: the birds starting waking up.

What had been dark and quiet became, eh, less dark and full of the songs of the descendants of the dinosaurs. The breeze quietly started as well, and the mountains facing the east radiated a soft, pink quality.

We eventually drove back to a trail closer to the entrance and took some more pictures. I was going between a Pentax Super Program 35mm SLR and my trusty Canon point & shoot, while the missus was using her trusty Nikon D7000 DSLR. Her camera produces images mine cannot, and the following few pictures are from me.

Once we were done we headed out, headed to find a diner to eat some breakfast and let the sun gain somewhat in the sky. As it was when I drove out of the park and back onto the freeway heading east, the sun was unblockably in my eyes.

If you'd like a hand-constructed catalog of some of the missus' spectacular photographs (in many sizes) from any of these trips for home and gifting purposes, please contact through email: invadingblondegiants(at)gmail(dot)com.