The times when I feel the most connected to the desert are when I stand alone in the relative quiet of the night. Outside of the occasional call of an Owl seeking a companion or the spine-chilling howl of the coyote as they roam their range, night in the valleys of the sky islands is a time for peaceful meditation and contemplation on my place in the cosmos. Here the still air is often joyously broken up by pleasant interludes of soothing winds. In the summer, soft, cool breezes born in the Baja peninsula or on the Pacific coast travel through, curbing the oppressive heat; while winters warm jetstream fires the frigid high altitude air making the time even more enjoyable.

Most nights the moon, earth's faithful mistress, graces the evening sky in brilliant illuminating light, a Juliet poised on the balcony of the galaxy shining down on her Romeo. While to my eyes the scenic landscape is shrouded in a blanket of darkness, to the camera the moonlight is a mystic torch that produces a stream of muted tones and starry wonder. This is my favorite time to capture sprawling images of God's vast world.

I've long sought to shoot this Elgin homestead. Sitting at the foot of the Mustang Mountains, adorned with a windmill, old wood-faced storefront and a small home, it sits abandoned on the windswept plain. Mount Bruce, colloquially known as the little biscuit, and Mount Mustang, the highest of the Mustang range peaks, stand in the backdrop. Underneath God's great canopy of heavenly lights, this is high desert living at its purest and most free. I am blessed to be its scribe.
Shoot Date: November 18, 2018
Canon EOS 5D Mark IV
Manual 15.0 sec at f/2.5 0 EV
Lens: 15mm @ 15 mm
ISO: 800