Quiet Walk Photography Photography and Blog by Carol Carnicom          The Wonderment of White Sands at Sunset      White Sands National Monument                                                                                      New Mexico                                                                                                                                The white-as-snow sand is soft under my bare feet. The body of the dune is firm,  however, and I tread lightly on its surface. I am heading west, away from our camp,  as I want to take to take photos of the dunes at sunset. Not far out from camp, I  remember to take my bearing by the physical landscape around me, something my  husband Clifford reminds me to do whenever we are hiking together. I note the  shape of the ridge of the Sacramento Mountains to the east and I know that I must  return with my back to the western horizon where the sun will soon be setting. I am carrying a Canon EVF camera that takes really great photos, a light-weight tripod,  and a fanny pack with water, compass, and a windbreaker, should I need them. I climb one dune after another in search of a landscape unmarred by human foot  prints. The dunes rise and fall, one swell diving into another. As I reach the crest of yet another dune, I am pleased to see that no one has been  here before me today. To the south the dunes, like ocean  waves held in suspension, continue on until they meet the sky and fade into the horizon. To the west, the sand dunes appear to reach all the way to the San Andres Mountains behind which the sun will soon be setting. Except for the faint out-of-place  sound of children's laughter that occasionally floats by me on the light breeze, the  sense of isolation is so intense, I can easily imagine myself to be the first person  ever to be here. Now to find the perfect spot for a photo of the dunes before the sun eases itself  down behind the mountains. I stop occasionally to take photos of ripples in the  sand, surrealistic paintings created by wind and sunlight. The swooping lines of the dunes are accentuated as the sun drops lower in the western sky. One more crest  and I have found The Right Spot. I take one photo after another, enchanted with the continually changing panorama of light and shadow . For a moment I sit splay-legged, making my own ripples with hands and legs in the  soft sand, cool beneath the surface, though the temperature was in the 90's this  early September afternoon. As the sand sifts through my fingers, my thoughts go  back to our arrival. Several weeks ago Clifford had signed  us up to attend the White Sands Star Party, which gave us  the rare opportunity of camping in White Sands National  Monument in southern New Mexico. Except for a backpack  campsite, camping is normally not allowed here. We arrived at White Sands yesterday shortly before dusk, following the Star Party signs to the cul-de-sac at the far end of the Heart of the Dunes loop. We were directed to park on the edge of a clearing in the sand,  and soon had our tent set up right at the foot of a small dune in a somewhat level  spot beyond the clearing. Other tents, like huge colorful out-of-place mushrooms,  were scattered through this interdune area. Across the clearing, RV's were backed  up against the steep backside of a 40 foot dune. Even before we had gotten our  tent set, I had taken off my sandals to see how the sand would feel to bare feet and discovered that it was totally delightful. I remained shoeless for the rest of our stay at White Sands. After setting up our tent, we headed back down the road to find the "Sunset Stroll"  sign where we joined a group of people gathered around a young park ranger who  was explaining how plant and animal life exists in the dunes. He told us about the  lichen and bacteria that form a nutrient-rich crust in the interdune area enabling  vegetation to get a foot hold. The dunes are active, moving  from 10 to 40 feet a  year depending on which part of the dune field they are located. Very few plants  grow in the most active parts of the dune field, but toward the edges, the dunes  move more slowly, making it possible for yucca and a variety of shrubs and grasses  to grow. Even slow growing cacti can live on the edges of the outer most dunes. As he led us through the edge of the dune field, he described the adaptive traits of several of the plants. Grasses survive by growing fast and sending out seeds that  quickly germinate; even though the parent plants is buried, seedling sprout in the  new interdune spaces. A three-foot yucca that appears to be growing on the side of a 30 foot dune is actually a yucca with a stalk that has grown quickly enough to accommodate the advance of the dune. A  yucca may have a 20 to 30 foot stalk, though only the top of the  plant can be seen. Once the dune moves on, blown by the wind, the tall stalk cannot support the leaves and flower spire, and so  collapses. He also showed us a short  cottonwood tree growing at the crest of a 40  foot dune. What we were really seeing was only the top of a  tall tree whose trunk was mostly buried in sand and whose  roots delved into the earth beginning at the interdune level.  Surprisingly, the water table is not far below the interdune  surface. The cottonwood puts out auxiliary roots along the  buried trunk to catch rain water seeping through the sand  and to provide oxygen to the tree. This explains how a cottonwood, which normally we expect to see growing along river bottoms, can survive here in the desert. As the ranger was was explaining about the cottonwood, my attention was caught  by an odd looking bush growing not far away. Later, as we gathered around another such bush deeper in the dunes, I learned of the interesting survival mechanism of  the skunkbush sumac. Its thick mat of roots binds the sand and as the sand dune  moves on, a pedestal remains topped by the sumac, looking like a mop of hair on a  wrinkled old head. These sumac pedestals can be seen deep within the dunes, but  eventually wind erodes the pedestal away and the sumac succumbs to the dunes. The ranger also told us about the unexpected myriad of  creatures that live in the dunes: beetles, insects, lizards,  snakes, mice, many of whom had adapted by changing color  to blend in with the dunes. Although these creatures are  seldom seen, being mostly nocturnal, he pointed out their  tracks, delicate patterns in the sand. We also spied one nearly white lightly striped lizard in the shade of a salt bush. We also learned that these firm white dunes are made of gypsum, not granite  granules as are most sand dunes of the world. To the west, eons ago, geological  activity had brought a layer of gypsum to the surface of the earth where the action  of wind and water create this steadily growing field of moving sand dunes. As we walked, the ranger shared not only his knowledge, but also his love for this  nearly desolate place, and the preciousness of the life that exits here. Although I  did not learn his name, I felt a special connection to him. The last rays of the sun draw my attention back to the moment. My camera is nearly full of photos and now I take the final shots of the deepening shadows in the last  seconds before the sun slips away. I turn to head back, and am surprised to find  that by the light of dusk all shadows have disappeared and the effect is weirdly  similar to driving in a white-out snow storm. I am very grateful for having found my  landmarks in the outline of the mountain to the east, as the dunes themselves give me not a clue as to where I've been or where I'm headed. Later, as I read the  brochure that was handed out at the gate, I see the admonition to never hike off-  trail alone. Now I know why. The sand dunes can be very disorienting any time of  the day, but especially after sunset. I walk quickly, but carefully, as the slipfaces, as the steep back sides of the dunes are called, are no longer obvious. Now the laughter that I hear faintly somewhere in the distance is a welcome sound. Rather than falling into  fearfulness about the possibility of getting lost, I am  exhilarated by the mini-adventure, knowing that camp is  only minutes away, and my camera is a treasure house full  of images which will become my venue to share the beauty and the wonderment of  being in the dunes at sunset.