photography by wasim.

Tag: canyon

Thank Apple’s OS X Yosemite Announcement For This Collection Of Desktop & iPhone WallPapers

In honor of Apple’s latest operating system announcement, OS X Yosemite (which, if you know me, that word alone gets me excited) I figured I’d rehash some of my images from my Yosemite adventures last year. In case you don’t want to (or can’t) wait until the fall for the official release, after the ‘read more’ break below, you’ll find a few of my favorites optimized for your desktop backgrounds, and below those are the iPhone-optimized versions. To save them, just right click and choose ‘Save Link As…’ And as always, if you’re on Android or another platform, I don’t want you to feel left out. Just contact me and let me know what your device is and I’ll format it for you.

Also, for a brand new mobile phone background from a recent trip to Yosemite, click here. And for the rest of the images from my more recent Spring 2015 trip back to Yosemite Valley, click here.

And for more of my madness:
Instagram: @wasimofnazareth
Ello: @wasimofnazareth Google+: www.Google.com/+WasimMuklashy
Facebook: www.Facebook.com/WasimOfNazareth

Enjoy…

Please keep in mind, I still hold the copyright to these images. They are provided for you to download for personal use only. If you would like to license one of these images, please contact me.

June 4, 2014
I Got A Bit Jerky, And In Return, Topanga Got Fresh!

So this was fun. I recently got a minute to head over to Topanga Fresh Market & Cafe, the organic market in town, to check out the display for Topanga’s Finest Jerky, the beef jerky company that used one of my canyon images for their label. I must say, it looked pretty darn good in there. I thought I had posted this here already, and perhaps I have and accidentally erased it, so forgive me if that was the case (I have a vague recollection of the event…). Anyhow, check it, just in time for the flurry of spring activity that’s about to abound!! Oh, and it’s gluten-free for those of you that maintain a gluten-free diet (and each pack comes with a handy dandy flosser…it’s the little things…). You can either stop by Topanga Fresh if you’re in the area, or hit up www.TopangasFinest.com directly.

March 3, 2014
I Win I Win!! (Sort of…) – The Results (And Lessons) Of My First Ever Photo Contest

So I threw a couple entries into this year’s “Spirit of the Mountain” photo contest, a contest sponsored by the National Park Service for images taken within the Santa Monica Mountains. Being as how I live in Topanga Canyon, right in the middle of that mountain range, I spend a lot of time exploring and making images around these hills and peaks and valleys. Anyhow, this past weekend was the opening exhibit so I headed out there with a couple of friends and to my surprise and elation, I walked up to see both of my images placed. One of them, “A Set Path,” placed 2nd in the competition’s challenge category ‘Shadows & Highlights,’ and the other, “Century Lake – A Portrait,” came in 3rd in the ‘Scenic’ category.

This was the first time I’ve ever entered a proper physical printed photo competition, so I have to say, that was really encouraging and neat to see and experience. The cool thing is that the images were judged by a pretty distinguished panel, including area legend Tom Gamache, photographer for Matthew Jaffe‘s iconic book “Range On The Edge,” as well as professional photographers Jim Shoemaker and Van Webster of Webster Communications.

One lesson I did learn however…matte your submissions! Mine were the only ones that weren’t matted with a border, which I didn’t even think about or realize until they sorely stood out amongst literally all of the other submissions. So yeah…next time…matte the buggers!

Also, there’s one award left…the ‘People’s Choice.’ Voting for that one doesn’t end until the 24th of November, so if you’re in the area, check it out. Make a day out of it. It’s right in the middle of the hills, surrounded by California State Park and National Park land. The exhibit is located at the Anthony C. Beilenson Interagency Visitor Center located at King Gillette Ranch at 26876 Mulholland Highway, in Calabasas, California, 91302.

Anyhow, here are the images in a higher resolution for your viewing (hopefully) pleasure.

November 4, 2013
Vote For Me!

This is just a quickie…so I entered a couple photos into a contest sponsored by the National Park Service. The opening exhibition is tomorrow, November 2 at 1pm and it will be open through November 24 for viewing and voting. You should go vote for my images. It’s nice out there. Grab some wine, a sandwich, and some Oreos. Have a picnic. These below aren’t the ones I entered but were taken within a half mile of the place just a few days ago. Voting and the exhibit are at the Anthony C. Beilenson Interagency Visitor Center located at King Gillette Ranch at 26876 Mulholland Highway, in Calabasas, California, 91302 (more…)

November 1, 2013
3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 6 – They Could Have Been Serial Killers!

Oh yes…it was incredibly striking how the landscape changes immediately…literally immediately once you cross the border from Utah into Colorado. The golden red sand and tan desert hues that were the prominent feature for the past 5 days begin to melt away within mere miles of crossing over that invisible line, and they’re replaced with a green, lush, and seemingly more oxygen friendly palate. It was striking how quick and abrupt the transition was. After about an hour of climbing up a mild grade along increasingly green roadside fields and streams and rolling hills filled with meadows and rivers that could compete with the Palouse, it started to get steeper and steeper. After shaking off the plains of the desert behind us, it was hard not to embrace the fact that we were headed into arguably the most magnificent mountain range in the country…the Colorado Rockies. Not a bad introduction to the second half of this trip.

Being a huge mountain and running water and tree and forest guy, this is the point when my intuition coerced me sit back and just marinated in the environment that we were floating through. I immediately felt at home.

Our first proper stop in Colorado was about 3 hours in. My friend that joined me on this trip was itching to go fishing from the moment we left Los Angeles, and as we rode alongside a grand rushing river, it was killing him not to stop. Granted, I had no complaints, so we found a small town called Hot Sulphur Springs that ran right along the Colorado River. While he pulled out the tackle box and the rods and set up shop along the banks, and I decided to wander the town a bit – get a feel for this seemingly mythical landscape.

What I found in Hot Sulphur Springs was the kind of place where the local children tube down the river that connects their backyards, where the remains of an old ‘mercantile’ store sit beside the ancient whitewashed brick building that still serves as a post office, where children’s bikes are left strewn about in front of the ‘Town Hall,’ where the trout run rampant and the sheriff stops in just to say hello. The sort of place where a stranger sees you walking in the streets, asks where you’re headed, and then offers you a ride (yes…that happened…not once, but twice. Coming from L.A., I had no idea what to do with that).

This sort of place. Is Colorado.

After a little more than an hour of hanging out in this charming town, it was time to get back on the road. We still had to make it through Rocky Mountain National Park, over the ‘hills’ that divide the East and West of our great country, down through Estes Park, and finally into Loveland, Colorado, along the front range of the Rockies, where a mutual friend that was putting us up for a few days lives and was waiting for us with a fresh home cooked ‘supper.’

Now, if the day ended at this moment, it would have been a perfect day, but it didn’t, and what it still had in store for us blew my hot damn mind into stratospheres I have only thus far read about and admired from calendars and picture books and vague recollections of out of print geography class text books. The next leg of our trip was taking us directly through Rocky Mountain National Park, and as soon as we entered that gate, it was like Mama Nature’s magic wand went ballistic.

We rode into the official park entrance along the 34 highway, otherwise known as Trail Ridge Road, just as the sun began it’s decent over the western range of the valley, and we couldn’t have been in a more perfect position. The centerpiece of this part of the park is an insanely stunning elk and deer-laden meadow that stretches a solid couple of miles through the center of a valley flanked by aspens and Douglas firs and purple ponderosa pines. When the sun is setting in a flawless meadow, and everything starts to glow pink and purple and gold, there’s only one thing you’re required to do – hit the bloody brakes and get out of the car.

Now.

We parked alongside the road, I grabbed my camera, and ran directly out into the middle of the meadow. By now, my buddy knew the drill…I was gonna be a while. So he gave in and gladly grabbed his fishing pole, and jumped into the stream. He did his thing and I did mine. I felt like a frickin’ child running around and ducking and hiding and frolicking in the 3-foot tall blades of grass, grabbing every angle and light beam and cloud formation I can in my viewfinder before the sun disappeared behind the range. This went on for a good 45 minutes where nothing. Else. Mattered. And this was the sight where I made some of my favorite images of the trip.

However, there was still a good drive ahead of us to get through the park and over onto the front range and we knew that. What we didn’t know was the surprise that awaited us just a few miles up the road…I don’t know why it didn’t even occur to us until we were in the midst of it, but all of a sudden, we’re driving, the trees begin to disappear, we realize we’re way above the tree-line and that’s when we saw it…the sign: Continental Divide – 11,000 feet. We were literally at the top of the Rocky Mountains, the dividing line where the East meets the West, the top of the fence from which the waters flow east into the Atlantic and west into the Pacific. We were driving along a ridge line where we were simultaneously watching the sun set on one side and the moon rising on the other. The timing was psychotically impeccable. And in this situation, when you’re literally on top of the world, there’s only one thing you’re required to do – yup…you guessed it, hit the bloody brakes and get out of the car!

This is where I’ll let the pictures in the gallery at the end of this post try to do the talking/typing…they won’t nearly do it justice, but, well, it might just be one of those things you have to experience for yourself. It’s like that.

Now the sun was down, the moon was up, and we hunkered back down in the car for the 2 hours that lie ahead of us through Estes Park and into Loveland, Colorado. We rolled in to our friend’s casa, exchanged hugs and pleasantries, and did what any group of long-separated friends do when they get together…ate and drank. We popped open a bottle of wine, settled down on the table outside with our plates of fresh salmon, asparagus, and grilled vegetables and laughed and drank and merried til’ we passed out, one by one, in the warm summer air – the sounds of Coloradoan crickets and distant rush of the Big Thompson river lulling us to sleep.

zzzz…

If you’ve only just joined me on this “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 weeks, 1 Crap Bag” journey, and would like to start at the beginning, click here.

Til next time…

For more of my madness: Instagram: @wasimofnazareth Twitter: @wasimofnazareth Google+: www.Google.com/+WasimMuklashy Facebook: www.Facebook.com/WasimOfNazareth

October 22, 2013
3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag – Part 5 – Hoodoo the Voodoo & Melee at Moab.

So we made it out of the Narrows, and with that, our days in Zion National Park come to a close. Under normal circumstances I’d say this was a shame, but these aren’t normal circumstances. We still have two National Parks to go on the way to a week in Colorado to celebrate a good friend’s wedding, so if we’re going to leave Zion, might as well do it on a high note, and if you’ve been following along the last several posts, we’re definitely coming out on top. Our next stop was Bryce Canyon National Park, so after our Narrows and rodeo adventure and a late night arrival and camp setup, there was no doubt that sleep was going to be no problem at all.

And it wasn’t…after a meal of delicious hot link ramen and a bottle of wine over a stubborn campfire of course.

We awoke the next morning to the smell of fresh pine and morning dew. I looked out the tent window and got my first glimpse of our environment as it was way too late and dark to see where and what were in for when we got in the night before. I almost felt like I was in the familiar Sierras…sitting in the shade of pine needles, brisk morning air that coupled perfectly with a steaming cup of coffee as the final remnants of the night fog transformed into evaporation on its way over the hillside behind our campsite. It was also this moment when we discovered the evidence of what seemed to be a large storm that had made its way out of the area no more than a few hours before we arrived – the puddles, the damp dirt, the water dripping down the embankment behind the campsite.

In any case, we only had one day allotted here so decided to make the best of it by getting as deep into the hoodoos in Bryce Canyon as we could in half a day. We did a bit of research and settled on the Navajo trail, a loop that would take us deep into the canyon and back up again over the course of about 4 or 5 miles, and, well, I’ll just jump right into it…while Zion National Park’s formations were insanely awe-inspiring and magnificent…these were just…just…weird! Where the sentiment in Zion was “this is justinsane!,” the sentiment in Bryce Canyon was, what the heck are these!??

We stood at the rim perplexedly staring at the strangest natural structures that perhaps exist. Sandstone spires that reach from dozens of feet to hundreds of feet into the sky, all originating at the base of a canyon that seems to be fairly well guarded from the elements. It’s like God was hauling a God-sized tractor trailer full of soft serve ice cream cones and s/he jackknifed at the top of this canyon, projecting all of its contents into this golden valley. But then upon closer inspection and deduction from the direction of the looming thunderstorm just on the horizon, you realize that this canyon seems a perfect corridor for heavy desert winds and rushing water from the plateaus above. But still…how do they get to look like this??

In any case, we descended into the valley and twisted and turned through miles of this madness. The way down was a brisk and mild pace, stopping every here and there to catch different angles of the weirdness from within. Granted we were now looking from the bottom up at them rather than from the top down, and it just got more bizarre with each step. It’s an extremely alien landscape that served as just another reminder that the tricks up Mother Nature’s sleeves are endlessly varied, but all equal reminders of our place amongst this vast unexplainable madness. After the steep climb up right through the middle of it, we hopped back in the car, got on the road, picked up some coffee and ice cream next to an old rusted German car just outside of Bryce (dunno…) , and off we went, hoping to get to Moab that evening to check out the Arches in the morning.

Thing is, we miscalculated how far it actually was and decided to do a bit of sight seeing on the way…but how could you NOT stop when there’re signs pointing out Indian carvings on a sandstone wall just off the side of the road (which, by the way, had me convinced that aliens existed back in their day…I mean, click here, look at these drawings…)? So we drove and drove and drove and drove and the landscape began to noticeably change from the warm sandswept orange hue to a very sterile and, well, freaky white tones…the sort of environment that you look at and can’t help but think there’s no way anything out here can sustain life! It was an almost apocalyptic feel – just a lot of HUUUUGEEE white barren sandy nothingness.

We finally started to close in on Moab, but by the time we got there, it was almost midnight and our main goal was finding something to eat…we figured we’d splurge on our first real meal since beginning this trip. We pulled up to the first open establishment we can find, parked right in front, and as we were ditching the smelly hiking gear for a spritz of Axe deodorant and fresh socks, a slightly disheveled man walked up to us with a message – not to park right in front of the bar as the police just wait outside, preying on people who walk out and get in their cars to leave. He then conveniently proceeded to tell us exactly where to park, which was essentially about two blocks and and a few turns away. I found this particularly odd that a local, who sees a truck full of gear and two obvious out of towners, is leading us directly somewhere for our safety. It might be the L.A. in me, but I couldn’t help but feel he was basically just leading us to a spot that perhaps a few of his friends might know about, giving him the perfect alibi that he was at the same bar we were.

I didn’t feel comfortable with this arrangement, so we just got back in the car and looked for another place…problem is, it was late and the options were slim. We were luckily able to find a spot, Frankie D’s Bar & Grill, and when we walked into a pool bar manned by a heavily tattooed bartender blasting Korn, we knew that this was the place for us…there was no way this bacon-cheese-jalapeno burger with a side of Negro Modelo was going to disappoint, and it didn’t.

It was too late to head into Arches National Park and risk not finding a campsite, so after a quick photo opp with the Gonzo Inn sign (the Hunter S. Thompson fanboy in me geeked out a bit…), we opted to camp at one of the small private campgrounds along the Colorado River just outside Moab. We popped open a few brews, started setting up camp, and we sat down to finally relax and let the day wind down. As I was wrapping my ankle that I must have tweaked somewhere along the way, I noticed a thing…I asked my friend for his flashlight, pointed it at the thing and realized we had just set up camp, loudly, on a site that already had a tent set up, it was just tucked away behind a thicket of trees.

We couldn’t help but laugh and feel bad at the same time, but the feel bad part fell away after a few beers and the realization that no one was in the tent…we picked up our tent while it was still assembled and just dragged it across the way to an open site.

We woke up the next morning, struck camp, and after a bit of deliberation, opted to skip Arches National Park. We were scheduled to make it all the way to Loveland, Colorado by nightfall where our friend was expecting us, so we had to decide between a 6 hour hike into Arches or making our way into Colorado to spend some time in Rocky Mountain National Park before heading into the front range. We figured we had plenty of desert and nothing was going to top Zion and Bryce, so let’s mix things up a bit…let’s do this Colorado thing…

So below is a selection of images from this part of the trip, and if you missed the first few parts of this “3 National Parks, 3 States, 2 Weeks, 1 Crap Bag” saga, just click HERE to go to the beginning. And if you’re ready to move onto Part 6, “They Could Have Been Serial Killers,” click HERE.

Til’ next time…

For more of my madness: Instagram: @wasimofnazareth Twitter: @wasimofnazareth Google+: www.Google.com/+WasimMuklashy Facebook: www.Facebook.com/WasimOfNazareth

October 2, 2013
The Red A-Frame Cabin at Far Meadow – The Pictures

I’ll keep this one short and sweet…so all that madness I’ve been blabbering on about the past few posts about this Far Meadow business? Well, the whole purpose of that trip was to photograph a new A-Frame cabin as well as their ‘Glamping’ facilities. Well, those pics have finally been published! Below is a gallery of those images.

Enjoy. Book. Go. Trust me.

August 7, 2013
Far Meadow – The Photo Trip Comes To A Close (Part 3)

“Our backyard is the National Forest,” she says. Their back-yard…IS THE NATIONAL FOREST!

That part of this whole thing didn’t really hit me until I walked across the gate into the meadow and saw the sign that said, “Property Line – Entering National Forest.”

Literally…I grabbed an iced tea, walked across a mini field of wildflowers that took all of 16 seconds, and there it is – the property border, and the beginning of…the National Forest.

Anyone that knows me has heard me say more than once that if and when I finally do own a home, it needs to be small, low maintenance, and quaint, but I do have a requirement – a lot of natural land around me…and if someone asked to pick two places in California to do that in, they’d be Big Sur and Yosemite. Well, this couple have worked tirelessly to make that happen. That is literally their life. In the time I’ve been here, they haven’t stopped working on this three-year work in progress, the third cabin, and I mean real physical labor – building, carpentry, plumbing, cooking, painting, staining, you name it – all in an effort to have it ready for the tenants, and never once complaining about it, I would imagine because they realize that this life is beautiful. In most cases, a hint of envy might take me over, but for some reason, in this case, it didn’t. Instead, I foudn it encouraging as all hell to know that this is not just a thing of fantasy, this is a very real possibility as a result of work and do. They just do. They don’t complain about it. They just do it – and for the most part, with smiles on their faces.

In any case, here I am, entering my final night of this little pseudo-adventure, and I sit, by candlelight, yet again, writing this communique (sorry, had to do it…), reflecting a bit on the last few days. It takes getting away from everything you’re used to, your monotonous, almost formulaic robotic way of life, to understand and put everything into perspective…life truly is good. Experiences are what remind you of that. Yes, bad shit has happened, and bad shit will happen, that’s just a part of it, but so does good shit. Overall, when you take the initiative to try to pay attention to the life that is around you and the life you’re living, rather than just numbly let it guide you and pass right by you, every single one of those moments that you live in, those moments you truly live in, you realize are good moments. This moment, right here, right now, is beautiful. And the more of those beautiful ones that you pay attention to and accumulate, you can store in your memory for those times when you need them…you can draw on them and remember that there are many incredible moments, come and gone, and, most important (and hardest) to remember, will come again.

So some of the moments that I will continue to draw on for days, weeks, months to come come from these final days here at Far Meadow. Today, while the light was directly above and not quite optimal shooting conditions for property photography, let alone any photography, the owner decided to take me to some ‘amazing pools and waterfalls’ close to the property, so we hopped in the truck and headed on down a grizzly sierra road. We twisted and turned through pine trees and dirt roads and came upon a trailhead that led us through manzanitas and beautiful moss-covered pine groves that soon opened up into a creek, that led into a pool, that led into a wider creek, that led into a bigger pool, that led into…well, you get the picture…

The combination of fresh-flowing alpine water cascading across the warm sun-beaten rocks, snaking it’s way from one natural pool to another, provided for some of the most perfect swimming hole conditions I perhaps have ever encountered (it’s still tough to completely beat Havasu Falls…). The color of the water danced from forest green to platinum to gold, depending on which angle you looked at it, and whatever surroundings that the light was bouncing upon it from. This is where the Eye-Fi came in super handy, for every direction you turned your head provided another frame. Here’s a few of them.

I was so inspired that on the drive back, I instinctively tapped into my inner Van Gogh with this shot (in actuality, it was all an accident stemming from having the camera unintentionally in shutter priority mode rather than the intended aperture priority…but hey, turned out to be one of my favorite images, so, well, yup!):

Silliness aside, we got back in time to snap the final round of shots needed for the rental, and proceeded to make and devour our final meal together in Far Meadow…sausages, artichokes, and soup, all cooked upon that same open fire pit flame. We laughed about the look on the store clerk’s face when they went to buy a wood burning stove on a 109 degree day (for clarification, it was a cabin installation for the winter months…), we conversed on everything from the difference between photography and art to the major differences in compost toilets (don’t ask…), then grabbed a nightcap glass of white wine, walked out into the meadow, and turned our heads upwards for a final time, soaking in the milky way, a couple of shooting stars, and a few more laughs…

…just more of those ‘moments’ to bank away…

— For Part 1 of this Far Meadow Photo Adventure, click here! and for Part 2 of this Far Meadow photo adventure, click here! and find me on Google Plus, where I’m most active on a daily basis or on Twitter @wasimofnazareth for my mobile mayhem (aka: pretty pictures taken by iPhone).

July 30, 2013
Just Flow – Pursuing A Life Of Being

In a strange sense, I feel like I’m preparing for something. I spend a lot of time alone, very little social interaction – isolated from the constant deluge of stimulation and media saturation. I’m left alone in my thoughts, in my being.

And I do it to myself.

And there’s an almost constant sense in me of, I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to be down there either, but I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be somewhere. Elsewhere. Yet, only recently have I begun to accept and embrace the possibility that I truly am supposed to be here. For if I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t be.

But I am.

The distractions, the noise, the static, the relationships from the past, most of which were based on toxic and flawed foundations, would have continued. I would not have been able to see them for what they were. The true essence of man that surrounded me would have continued to be masked by a show or a band or a story or the news or an event or a relationship or a girl or a guy or a lie or the tv or a film or some form of numbing deceit…adding layer upon layer on top of the only thing that truly exists. Layers that you’d eventually have to dig through. One after another after another.

And hence, the cycle would just propagate itself.

Is it easy? Of course not. But it’s not supposed to be. Is it valuable? Absolutely. For understanding what you are capable of and what you are not, is necessary if you pursue a life of being.

So it was necessary, necessary to step away from it all, and be away from it all, and be. Just marinate in being. Feel everything. Allow yourself to feel everything. Allow it to take hold of you. And then allow it to release you. However many times it needs to.

It was necessary in order to understand that the way it was and the way it seemed, is not necessarily the way it will be. It was necessary to begin to understand yourself at your core in order to understand how that core fits into greater moment.

Limitations are a gift. Limitations realized are a blessing. Knowing that those limitations are preparation for limitless expansion is the ultimate prize.

For without those gifts and blessings, you would never know where you stand. Where you should be.

So yes, I’m preparing for something. The only question is…

…what?

July 2, 2013
When you can’t get away from it all…get away from it all.

So it was one of those days, the thought process just goes into overdrive and begins to cloud any reasoning and logic. The past comes up, the future comes up, all of the baggage surrounding both start to rear their nosy and intrusive little lizard heads. Sometimes this would last for hours, then days, then weeks, but more and more you begin to see that there’s a way out…well, at least temporarily.

You recognize it.

You realize it.

You consciously stop it and remind yourself that none of it is part of your current existence, except the parts you allow to be.

And then just as you think you’re starting to get the hang of it all, you slip right back down. And that’s when you realize you need to step away.

Or maybe it’s just me.

In any case, I figured it’s been a long while since I’ve visited one of my little sanctuaries and what better time than now. So I jumped in the car, headed down to the gardens at Lake Shrine Self-Realization Center, and just sat.

Literally.

Just picked one of the benches and sat.

Watched. Listened. Felt.

And a few other people just came to the surrounding benches and sat.

Just sat.

Watching, listening, feeling…being.

And just like that, you remember what you’re supposed to be doing. And everything else melts away.

Thanks again for setting me straight Lake Shrine.

Until the next time…

June 28, 2013