Current Affairs
Writer Joseph J. Airdo // Photographer Tevin Jones
In Arizona, water is both architect and sculptor. Over millennia, it carves canyons, shapes stone, and writes stories across the desert that only those who seek it will ever read. For photographer Tevin Jones, these rivers and streams represent something more profound than scenic beauty — they’re visual meditations on time, impermanence, and the quiet power of persistence.
This collection of images transforms Arizona’s hidden waterways into silk and light. Through long exposures that blur rushing currents into painterly strokes, Jones captures not just what these places look like, but how they feel. Each photograph becomes a study in contrasts: the permanence of stone against the motion of water, the scarcity of our desert climate against the abundance of these rare riparian corridors, the chaos of rapids rendered into serene, milky flows.
The technique is deliberate. By allowing his camera’s shutter to remain open for seconds at a time, Jones compresses countless moments into single frames where water becomes ethereal, almost otherworldly. What the eye sees as turbulence, the lens translates into tranquility.
“I like the idea of water slowly carving through the landscape and shaping it over time, and that’s what I try to show with the movement of the water,” Jones says.
One of his favorite images in the collection — an intimate composition from West Fork — captures just this: a sinuous channel carved through rock, water flowing through its ancient path. It’s a portrait of patience, of geologic time made visible.
“When I look at it, I think about how over hundreds, thousands, or even millions of years, that channel has been carved out,” Jones reflects. “There’s a beauty in the fact that our time here is so short — that in the grand scheme of things, we’re so insignificant.”
The crown jewel of this collection came during a predawn expedition to Cibecue Falls — a journey that required leaving at 2 a.m. to secure a permit and arrive before sunrise. His wife, newly pregnant at the time, couldn’t make the strenuous hike, so Jones brought his mother instead.
“It’s not even the photograph of the actual falls that’s my favorite,” he admits. “It’s this image of beautiful reflected light bouncing off the canyon walls. This canyon is unlike any other I’ve been to in Arizona. At just the right time, the water turns gold.”
They had the canyon to themselves that morning — a rare gift of solitude in Arizona’s increasingly discovered wild places.
Meet the Photographer
Tevin Jones never really left home. After growing up in North Phoenix and attending Paradise Valley High School, he and his wife recently purchased their second house just 2 miles from where he was raised. But his roots run deeper than geography — they’re woven into the landscape itself.
“I grew up spending time outdoors all over Arizona. I love this state,” Jones says. “I’ve been doing photography on the side since I was about 11, and I fell in love with landscape photography because Arizona is such a beautiful place.”
His journey to photography began with a single frozen moment: his stepsister photographing him playing basketball when he was 10 years old.
“I’ll never forget: She had a film camera, and she took a picture of me playing basketball with one of my friends. I was just fascinated by how you could capture a moment like that,” he recalls.
By day, Jones works as a strength and conditioning coach, programming workouts for a gym near Arcadia. But his creative practice — whether photography, drawing or athletics — serves a deeper purpose.
“I’ve always had trouble sleeping. My mind’s always running. I can never really shut it off,” he explains. “The one way I’ve found to shut it off is through some sort of creative endeavor where I’m so focused. It’s the one time I have peace in my mind. And I’ve noticed that a lot of my photos are geared toward that: toward some kind of peaceful, inner peace that I want to portray to the world.”
Now a father to a 10-month-old son, Jones has adapted his practice to family life. Once-a-month camping trips with a trailer have replaced spontaneous road trips, but the mission remains unchanged.
“I hope my images inspire people to protect these places,” he says, noting the utmost importance of always packing out whatever you bring into an area.
It’s a photographer’s prayer: that beauty might inspire not just wonder but stewardship.