In the painted hills of O'Keeffe Country, a red heart presides over a small wash. I find that the grey bones and red flesh of the desert reveal themselves best under the soft light of twilight.
This place is hidden in plain sight. I've thought long and hard about how to make an image here, but I've never visualized an image worth making until this weekend. Sometimes in photography it takes a long time until something finally clicks in your mind's eye.
The sun breaks through a wall of snow above the distant North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Below the plateau, the chocolatey Little Colorado River cuts through its gorge towards the confluence with the Colorado River and the Grand Canyon, a mile or so upstream.