Image 1 of 1
Less

Luna & Lucifer

Add to Cart Add to Lightbox

Nature can often be a source of quietude and peaceful serenity, but sometimes its raw and savage power is vividly on display. On days such as this one at Nevada’s Great Basin National Park, she displays both personalities. After spending the morning lounging in my hammock, adjusting to the 10,000 foot altitude and relaxing after the previous day’s 15 hour drive from Badlands National Park, I shouldered my pack to hike up towards some high alpine lakes for sunset. As I was about to leave my campsite, a ranger came up to tell me that they were evacuating the campground, due to a wildfire in the area. I thought he was joking at first, since it was a pristine summer day. He was serious, though, and just like that, my plans changed. I tore down my tent and began the winding drive down the shoulder of Wheeler Peak, thinking about where I would sleep that night and where my next destination would be. Distracted by these thoughts, I had almost forgotten the reason I had to leave the campground. That is, until the road broke free from the forest and I saw a scene unfold before me unlike anything I had ever witnessed. Gigantic clouds of smoke rose from the forested mountainside, glowing orange from the flames below and the sun above. The otherwise cloudless blue sky was barely visible. The power and indifference of the fire was overwhelming, and although I knew I needed to get the hell out of there, I just couldn’t look away. I eventually continued the white-knuckle drive down the mountain, keeping one eye on the fire and one on the twisting road. After such an exhilarating experience, the answer to the question “where to next?” was now abundantly clear – nowhere but here. This photo is my favorite from the three days I spent photographing the fire, and was captured at twilight on the first night of the fire when billowing clouds of smoke invaded the starry night sky and the moon hung over Wheeler Peak and silently watched the mountainsides burn.

Copyright
Joseph Priola
Image Size
2000x1000 / 1.2MB
Keywords
Contained in galleries
American West
Nature can often be a source of quietude and peaceful serenity, but sometimes its raw and savage power is vividly on display. On days such as this one at Nevada’s Great Basin National Park, she displays both personalities. After spending the morning lounging in my hammock, adjusting to the 10,000 foot altitude and relaxing after the previous day’s 15 hour drive from Badlands National Park, I shouldered my pack to hike up towards some high alpine lakes for sunset. As I was about to leave my campsite, a ranger came up to tell me that they were evacuating the campground, due to a wildfire in the area. I thought he was joking at first, since it was a pristine summer day. He was serious, though, and just like that, my plans changed. I tore down my tent and began the winding drive down the shoulder of Wheeler Peak, thinking about where I would sleep that night and where my next destination would be. Distracted by these thoughts, I had almost forgotten the reason I had to leave the campground. That is, until the road broke free from the forest and I saw a scene unfold before me unlike anything I had ever witnessed. Gigantic clouds of smoke rose from the forested mountainside, glowing orange from the flames below and the sun above. The otherwise cloudless blue sky was barely visible. The power and indifference of the fire was overwhelming, and although I knew I needed to get the hell out of there, I just couldn’t look away. I eventually continued the white-knuckle drive down the mountain, keeping one eye on the fire and one on the twisting road. After such an exhilarating experience, the answer to the question “where to next?” was now abundantly clear – nowhere but here. This photo is my favorite from the three days I spent photographing the fire, and was captured at twilight on the first night of the fire when billowing clouds of smoke invaded the starry night sky and the moon hung over Wheeler Peak and silently watched the mountainsides burn.
Joey Priola Wilderness Photography