By Jeffrey M. Smith | Art of Frozen Time
Mesa Arch Sunrise—A Scene Worth Chasing
Mesa Arch sunrise. If you’ve searched online, you’ve likely seen it: a glowing red rock arch framing the sun as it rises over a vast desert canyon. From personal experience, I can tell you—getting that perfect shot is anything but easy.
As this glowing red rock art print hangs in my gallery, I’m often asked:
- Is this scene real?
- What filter did you use to make the starburst?
- Or worse… How did you create that in Photoshop?
Ouch. I know these questions come from a good place, but each feels like a quiet jab—dismissing the planning, skill, and timing that went into this capture. One visitor even asked, “Did you have to be there to get that shot?”
Back in 2023, that question seemed laughable. Today, with AI-generated images crowding search results, I understand it better. Many top search results for “Mesa Arch sunrise” are synthetic or so AI driven, that they lose all realism.
That’s why I’m proud of this print. It’s real. It’s natural. It’s honest. It took two predawn hikes, persistence, and reverence for a fleeting moment nature grants just once a day. And to me, it’s one of the most powerful, authentic renditions of Mesa Arch you’ll find.
Sunrise at Mesa Arch—The First Attempt
On the first morning, I hit the trail well before sunrise. Headlamp on. Boots crunching on the pathway. The desert was dark and eerily quiet. Without the light, I couldn’t see more than a few steps ahead—but overhead, the stars were spectacular.
Mesa Arch sits near a sheer 2,000-foot cliff. Hiking to it in the dark, alone, made me second-guess every footstep. Eventually, I reached the arch—surprised at its modest size. It’s easy to lose scale in photos. Mesa Arch spans only 27 feet—not the 100 it appears to be.
That morning, I was the fourth photographer to arrive. It doesn’t take many to fill up this popular overlook. I’d read stories of photographers elbowing for space, hoping to capture the fiery orange light that reflects off the underside of the arch as the sun breaks over the La Sal Mountains.
This was 2020, early in the COVID-19 pandemic. Restrictions were in place, but we were encouraged to enjoy outdoor spaces—so long as we kept our distance. That’s a challenge with just 27 feet to share. We spread out as best we could but more people arrived our tripods became intertwined as we tried to accommodate each other, silent under masks, all respecting the moment.
Twilight brought hope—and clouds. For sunrise magic, you need a clear gap on the horizon to light the underside of the clouds. We saw a gap… until it closed. No sunburst. No glow. Just disappointment.
Still, I photographed what I could. The arch was beautiful, even without the drama. Later that night, around 10:30 PM, I decided I’d try again. I don’t quit.
Mesa Arch Sunburst—A Genuine Capture
The next morning began at 2 AM. I wanted to explore Arches National Park at night, capturing the Milky Way floating over Balanced Rock. Then I turned my truck toward Canyonlands National Park.
Driving away from Moab, the night sky grew darker. I scanned for stars—signs that the sky was clear. It looked promising. I reached the Mesa Arch trailhead again and began hiking. This time, I was the first to arrive.
It felt sacred. Alone under a vast starry dome, standing quietly at the canyon’s edge.
Because the summer solstice had just passed, I set up to the far right of the geologic portal. As others arrived, we greeted each other with quiet camaraderie. Today’s group was more jovial. Maybe it was the shared absurdity of our pre-dawn ritual.
But again… clouds. A thin layer approached the horizon. Would it ruin the sunrise again?
At 6:03 AM, the sun crested the La Sal Mountains—weak light at first. Dust from arriving visitors filled the air. Shooting into the sun is unforgiving, and nothing spoils a sunstar like a dusty lens. I kept cleaning my lens, even mid-burst, mindful of every speck.
I shoot with a Canon 5D Mark IV, and I knew the light range would exceed what a single exposure could handle. So, I used exposure bracketing—seven shots taken in rapid succession within a single second. Three underexposed the sky, one balanced the scene, and three more captured detail in the darker foreground.
This mimics how our eyes work. We see wide ranges of light naturally, but cameras can’t. By bracketing exposures, I recreate that full experience—what your eyes would truly see if you stood there with me.
As the sun rose higher, the arch’s Navajo Sandstone lit up—bright orange-red. The moment came and went fast. At 6:09 AM, the clouds took over again. But I had the shot.
This wasn’t luck. It was preparation. It was discipline. It was clearing dust off my lens between every bracketed sequence. My shutter cadence was unique—tic, tic, tick, tick, tick, t-i-c-k, t—i—c–k… whoosh, whoosh… repeat.
Others snapped away. I crafted.
Selling Mesa Arch Sunrise—From Memory to Print
There are three joys to photography.
First is being there. Feeling the air shift. Watching light bloom across red sandstone. Standing with strangers in shared reverence. This was one of those moments.
The second joy comes weeks later—reviewing files back in Ohio. After thousands of images and careful blending, I saw it: the perfect sunburst under Mesa Arch. No filters. No tricks. Just truth.
The final joy? Seeing someone connect with the image. In my gallery, this print stops people. Often, they’ve been there too—maybe on a family trip. They remember the moment. Their camera didn’t capture it. But this print brings back fond memories in vivid detail. An emotional bond forms.
Eventually, they decide to take it home. It speaks to them.
Few things validate an artist more than that final, quiet transaction. For me, its fulfilling a calling kinda work!
And yes—being there was the point!
🛒 Purchase Mesa Arch Sunburst
📷 Visit the Sugarcreek Photography Gallery to see the art print in person.
