There’s nothing soft or lengthy about the Canyon floor’s “golden hour.” It’s saturated and momentary. In the Canyon, these oncoming moments leave as quickly as they come. It is rare fortune to encounter them with a camera and lens capable of doing the scene minimal justice. The Canyon merits the exquisite skill of a sensitive professional with the right gear. I was not even an “enthusiast” in spite of my ludicrous boast in the chapter, “My Dinner with Jeff.” I wasn’t even a rank amateur. A hobbyist, maybe. A babe in the woods, certainly. The barenaked truth is I was damn lucky to get what I got.
The Canyon Floor, morning, January 29th 2014
Cañon Del Grande 