‘Twas the final day in the Tetons, and everywhere was quiet.
The morning was peaceful, and it was the first time in four days we had had cell reception since we were hiking to Hidden Falls. We all called or Facetimed our parents while we were at Oxbow Bend.
There’s something that’s hard to explain about being in the mountains so early in the morning. We beat the sunrise by about 45 minutes, giving us all plenty of time to search for compositions for when the sunrise really hit hard.
Oxbow bend is one of the many iconic viewpoints in the Grand Tetons. Take a look at this Google search and you can see countless images similar to the one I have above. You can probably guess where I’m going with today’s post.
I set my tripod up on a bank about fifty meters away from the pull-off we parked in. Two of my tripod legs were in the water, with the other leg lifted nearly horizontal, resting on the steep ground directly behind me. This, thankfully, was the only placement I needed to put my tripod in for all of my photographs at Oxbow Bend.
I whipped my camera around pointing toward the beautiful and iconic Mt Moran. The river was still relatively still this early in the morning, and, as many landscape photographers love, reflections of the mountain was irresistible. The pink westward sky was that of a dream.
Many landscape photographers don’t like clear skies, but for me it’s a Godsend. However, as I eluded to previously, this image was “too iconic” for me. It was still a little before the best light (or “alpine glow”) of the morning, which was when I made this image, and then shortly thereafter, when I made the one image that was the saddest moment of my entire photographic career.