Meander

Rivers seldom follow a straight line. Instead, they meander, following a winding, convoluted course. Six-Mile Bend of Arizona’s Colorado River (today’s Friday Photo) meanders so substantially that it takes on a horseshoe shape at this location.

The word meander has an absorbing etymology. Three millennia ago, the Maíandros River twisted and turned its way through Asia Minor. Now known as the Büyük Menderes in southwestern Turkey, it’s the longest river flowing into the Aegean Sea.

The two names gave rise to the common English term “meander" used to describe the sinuous curves characteristic of river bends. The river’s meanderings even captured the imagination of Albert Einstein. In 1926, he pondered the physical laws that might explain its serpentine curves.

View of Maeander Valley, 1714, by Flemish traveller and artist Cornelis de Bruyn (1652–1727). Public domain/Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation/Hellenic Library - Alexander S. Onassis Public Benefit Foundation

The Shot

The most famous meander of the Grand Canyon’s Colorado River is the Horseshoe Bend near Page, Arizona. Carved over millions of years, this dramatic canyon plunges 1,000 feet into the vibrant red-rock plateau, revealing layers of ochre and crimson shaped by time. It stands as a world-class example of what geologists call an entrenched meander—a striking river bend that eroded deeply into the landscape, leaving the river winding far below sheer, rugged cliffs.

It’s beautiful, but there are “tripod holes” (photographer’s slang for an overphotographed location) everywhere along its iconic rim. It seems every visitor to Page stops there for a picture.

Ten years ago, I was on a trip to the Southwest looking to get off the beaten path. Six-Mile Bend of the Colorado River was one of those out-of-the-way locations.

Located about two miles upstream of Horseshoe Bend, it’s easy to appreciate from river level on a rafting trip. But few have ventured through the desert to its elevated rim.

The “road” there is two barely discernible ruts in soft sand following a pole line through the middle of nowhere. Once you’re close, it’s an “interesting” scramble down a wash for about a mile to the rim.

When you arrive, the feeling is indescribable. It’s just your small group of photographers transfixed by the sight of the mighty Colorado River meandering its way through the Grand Canyon.

The best composition requires you to stand next to the edge, about eight hundred feet above the river. Both photographs shown below were kindly provided by Jon Christofersen, who has accompanied me as a friend and fellow photographer on numerous journeys.

Unlike Horseshoe Bend, there are no safety warnings or fences. You must trust your judgement (or ignore it) to get a good composition.

We didn’t get a Technicolor sunrise that morning. But the experience of journeying there and soaking in the Colorado River meandering through the Grand Canyon all to ourselves that morning made it special.

Thanks for looking,

Chuck Derus Zenfolio | Chuck Derus

Volume

The illusion of volume is the magic of art. You feel it when a painting appears so real you think you could touch the subject or walk into the scene. Volume is the essence of composition, transforming a flat, two-dimensional canvas into a captivating three-dimensional world.

How do you create volume? There are three tried-and-true methods.

The first is light and shadow. Placing highlights on surfaces where light hits directly and adding shadow where the light fades enhances the feeling of three-dimensionality. Do any of you recall the “shading the apple” exercise in a beginner’s drawing class?

The second is gradation or smooth transitions between colors. The eye naturally moves from dark to light objects. In the landscape, darker colors are usually closest to us, with colors becoming lighter in the distance.

The third is perspective, leading the viewer’s eye deeper. Linear perspective, for example, where lines converge in the distance at a vanishing point, creates depth and volume. Another example is framing the subject to create depth.

Photographer David Osborn says, “Knowing where to look in a picture is not the viewer’s responsibility; it’s your responsibility as the photographer to tell the viewer where to look.”

Creating volume through composition and post-processing guides the viewer’s eye through a photograph. It draws in the audience and keeps them captivated. And it can aid in storytelling.

Leading Lines

Using leading lines helps create perspective and a feeling of depth. Leading lines are lines that lead the viewer’s eye from one part of a composition to another. They often begin at the bottom of the frame and guide the eye upward, from the foreground to the background.

Leading lines can be straight or curved. Elements such as pathways, roads, rivers, streams, fences, tree lines, architectural elements, shorelines, beach patterns, light, and shadows can both create depth and guide the eye.

Here’s a favorite example of mine from Death Valley, California.

Ibex Dunes 1

The Shot

On January 16, our photography group was outside the village of Al-Disah in the Tabuk Province of Saudi Arabia. The trees attracted us, as their shadows could form leading lines guiding the eye towards the distance.

Choosing a tree, I waited until the sun dipped close to the horizon, creating beautiful converging shadows leading to the tree. I then shifted slightly to block most of the sun, allowing just enough light to create an attractive sun star.

A modest amount of Photoshop post-processing lightened the distant peaks, enhancing the illusion of depth. I also slightly darkened the foreground.

Satisfied that the composition and limited post-processing achieved my goal of achieving volume, I happily saved my image and turned in for the night.

Thanks for looking,

Chuck Derus Zenfolio | Chuck Derus

The Kingdom

“Why Saudi Arabia?” was the question. My family and friends wondered why I’d journey there on a photography adventure.

My parents took me to see the movie Lawrence of Arabia as a ten-year-old in 1963. The movie depicts British officer T. E. Lawrence's World War I experiences in the Ottoman provinces of Hejaz and Syria.

I found myself completely drawn in. The film received ten Academy Award nominations and took home seven Oscars, among them for best picture, cinematography, and musical score.

The Library of Congress recognized the film in 1991 as "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant," adding it to the United States National Film Registry for preservation. In 2007, the American Film Institute ranked it in seventh place on their list of most inspiring movies and first on their list of "epic" genre American films.

My fascination with the movie’s Saudi Arabia locations continued over the ensuing decades. In 2002, when the film was restored and shown again, my wife and I saw it at the Tivoli Theatre in Downers Grove, Illinois, allowing me to relive the excitement I had felt as a child.

I remember thinking that the movie was as close as I’d ever get to experiencing the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

The Shot

I was thrilled when a photo workshop leader mentioned he was leading a future workshop in Saudi Arabia. I enrolled, hoping to see the landscapes I admired as a child.

We stayed in the tiny village of Al-Disah. It was so small that there were no hotels or restaurants. We stayed on a date farm, the only date farm in town offering rooms instead of tent pads.

Our “hotel” grounds.

The only block of rooms in town.

Our tent, where we ate breakfast and dinner.

In these remote locations, I hope for electricity, hot water, and heat. I lucked out as my room had electricity and hot water. An extra blanket compensated for the lack of heat.

On the morning of January 17, we left the comfort of our rooms to head out into the desert. Without clouds, we needed to capture a scene as the sun began to kiss the landscape.

This location, with the tree framed between two sandstone towers, seemed ideal. Our timing was perfect; the light only lasted a few minutes before it overpowered the scene. Afterwards, I soaked in the beauty that attracted me to a movie 63 years ago.

Thanks for looking,

Chuck Derus Zenfolio | Chuck Derus