This was one of the longest sunsets that I've ever experienced. It was also one of the most colorful and surreal. No mater how much time I spend in nature, the capacity of nature to far surpass my prior experiences and my wildest expectations never ceases to amaze me.
On this night the sunset color lasted at least an hour after the sun set. Most people left for dinner, but I was shooting a time-lapse sequence, so I stayed until the color was gone. This was taken on December 13, after Badwater Basin flooded shortly after Thanksgiving. With a follow-up storm, the water remained until early January!
The water table in Badwater Basin can be very close to the surface. That's how these polygons form: salt-laden water rises up cracks in the salt via capillary action, until it dries and deposits its minerals at the surface. The polygons re-form after winter rains, when the water table again is shallow enough to send salt to the surface.
Sadly, many visitors both enjoyed the sight and completely disregarded its fragility. Where people were hiking out to this spot, the polygons were quickly trampled and destroyed, The hike to less damaged locations became longer and longer, until the unique and incredible geologic processes were only visible as traces, lines flush with the surrounding salt flats. It got particularly busy after Los Angeles area newspapers covered the event. In an early visit there were perhaps a dozen people at sunset, even fewer at sunrise. Later, in one panorama image, I counted 212 people, many clearly oblivious to what they were stepping on, and erasing. I'm happy for whatever part of it they did appreciate, if only the reflection, or the joy of running around and splashing in the shallow water. Perhaps they'll notice more next time, and be curious to understand and value the extraordinary nature of the place, and the processes that they're seeing.
I hope that we get more rain on Badwater Salt Flats soon. I hope to spend a lot more time out there next time around.
This is one of the first revisits I've made to my folder from this night, to re-adjust my results with the latest post-processing tools and with a fresh perspective. Post-processing is a process, not a destination, an endpoint. I should re-process the entire time-lapse.
In response to one of the earlier edits from this night I received the inevitable responses of "fake" and "over-processed". Personally, I'm surprised at how often I am experiencing a literally unbelievable moment in nature, one that tempts you to abandon the camera and try to soak it all in before it's gone. Some of these moments are entirely predictable, like seeing the shimmering corona of the sun during a total eclipse. Many people who experience this become addicted to the experience, pursue every possible eclipse that they can, worldwide, for the rest of their lives. Other times you're completely taken be surprise, and the sun rays that you hoped to see are are more intense than anticipated, or the quality and colors of a sunset exceed your ability to comprehend how such a sight is possible.
In these moments, I've gotten into the habit of stating out loud "No one is going to believe this,", partially to mark that moment in time in my own brain and memory when I seek to relive it in post-processing. It is important to ensure that I'm not tempted to dumb it down out of fear that some armchair quarterback on the Internet might not have enough experience in nature to know that such a place and moment existed, if only for a moment in time. This is especially critical during photography workshops, when an important part of my service to my clients must be to empower them to have the courage to resist the temptation to cave in to self-proclaimed experts on the Internet, who should calm down, grow up, and get out more.
There's a lot of life left to be experienced, for most of us, and it would be a shame if you never experienced something like this. Whenever you do, please don't destroy any rare geologic features that you're walking among.
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