A Peaceful Moment

This issue’s “God’s Country” photographer shares his favorite photo.

When I’m working on deadline and must spend days roaming enormous expanses to get broad photographic coverage of a region, my wife often chooses not to join me. From past experience, Jan knows the hours can be long and backcountry roads are rough. Too many times she has resorted to munching nuts and dried fruit because the best evening light is usually around dinnertime. As twilight fades into darkness, she'll hear me placatingly say, “Just a little longer, dear, and then we'll go have a meal.”

One early October some years back, however, I was able to entice Jan along on a jaunt to the far reaches of Hart Mountain in southeast Oregon's high desert country. Even though it’s fairly arid there, at the 4,000- to 7,000-foot elevations of that open range there are many groves of quaking aspens along small streams and at wet springs. I wanted to photograph these white-barked trees in their yellow and orange autumn splendor.

One of Jan’s favorite things is to stroll among these lovely trees and listen to the fluttering golden leaves as a breeze murmurs through the grove. She generally ends up on her back, gazing upward at the colorful branches against a deep-blue, crystal-clear sky.

It was too much for Jan to resist. Adding her sleeping bag and other gear to the pile in the rear of our four-wheel-drive vehicle, off we went.

That evening at Hart Mountain, as the sun dipped lower and lower and the light became ever more golden and warm, I set up my camera at the edge of an aspen grove. I wanted to try to capture dappled autumn light in the heart of the cluster.

Jan meandered off among the aspens. Predictably, she was soon settled on her back, savoring the overhead leaves with a sigh of contentment. And when I peered into my viewfinder, I discovered that her resting spot was the same patch of sunshine among the white trunks that I had framed with my lens. Without disturbing her, I pushed the shutter button several times and captured the moment. Although her pretty face is not clearly visible, the results are some favorite photos of my wife in this peaceful environment. —Alan St. John