HDR Photography
The Bombay Beach Ruins now feature this fanciful pirate ship, but at its core is another sculpture with a far different 1950s-automotive-aerial aesthetic. I wonder what inspiration caused the artist to transform one piece into another—or if this was the work of a second artist? I’m reminded of old masters reusing canvases, painting over earlier works to repurpose the raw materials.
We’ve reached the end of 2025 and I’ll celebrate with what I think is one of my best shots of the year—and also just chronologically one of the last shots of the year. The tiny camper van and far-off lights add a sense of scale, saying “goodbye” to the distant events of that past time. Happy New Year!
The Bombay Beach Ruins is a sculpture garden on the shallow shores of the Salton Sea, and this particular swing is the site of some of my favorite pictures—but the gradual evaporation of the sea has stranded a symbol of whimsy and magic on the beach as, well, just a regular swing now.
Though the tiny lights of the Coachella Valley set the scale for the mighty size of the San Jacinto Mountains, even that range is dwarfed by the mighty scope and expanse of the sunset.
I like the interplay between the metal grid and the diamond bokeh of wire mesh—two regular, human-made patterns with the far more natural form of a kookaburra amidst them.
An aerial view of Coachella Valley reveals the artificial irrigation-induced greens amid the natural desert.
The looks of excitement and joy on the faces of visitors to the Living Desert as they feed lettuce to the giraffes is pretty infectious.
Returning to this viewpoint year after year, I’ve watched as the small cluster of white buildings (trailers?) at the bottom of this canyon keeps growing. Worksite? Settlement? Cult? Who knows, but I feel like there’s a good noir mystery to be written from this starting point.
You and me both, buddy.
A rainbow of colors extend across the earth and into the sky during blue hour above Empire Polo Club.
In the rainy hills above Palm Springs, I was able to put the techniques I learned at #GRIDLIFE last fall to good use to get a dramatic shot of a Challenger driving faster than was probably advisable on the rainy road to San Diego.
While hiking the La Quinta Cove Trail may feel like getting in touch with nature from ground level, a mixture of water from a recent rain and a drone’s-eye view reveal the ways in which the landscape has been reshaped by people to prevent erosion and preserve the desert.
A work truck heading into a rainy desert valley whisper tales of a working-classic California life that gets glossed over in many depictions of Coachella Valley.
Just how curvy does a road have to get before it’s too curvy? Though opinions will vary, I’m sure, I have to guess that, from a civil engineer’s perspective, the Palms to Pines Highway must be pushing the limits.
Cold, rainy winter days feel so at odds with the sun-baked desert landscape of Coachella Valley—and yet so necessary to the plantlife carpeting the valley floor. Experiencing it during one of those rainy moments felt like being let in on a very specific secret.
Decaseconds 