Lida, NV (2022).

Big Bend National Park, TX (2019)

Tucson, AZ (2019)

Crystal, NV (2022).

Marathon, TX (2021).

Rhyolite, NV. (2021)

Ajo 19. Ajo, AZ. (2019)

Lowell, AZ (2019)

The land south of Phoenix and the Gila River is like nowhere else along the Border. Wilder and harsher - less manicured - than the cities and towns farther north, the biodiversity and natural beauty runs wide and deep. And even before the Gadsden Purchase of 1854 transferred this region from Mexico to US territory, it’s been home to all sorts of people who are seemingly pushed to the edge.

It’s steeped in the history of exploitation, conquest, and human migration. It’s the end of the line. It’s a place beaten down by sun and wind, and from things passing by.

Some people and things stick around, and others find it was never worth staying for long. I love it.

Lesser Nighthawks over Tornillo Flat, Big Bend National Park, TX. (2021)

Marathon, TX (2021)

Death Valley National Park, CA (2022).

Sonoran Desert, AZ (2019)

Potrillo, NM (2021).

Ajo 4. Ajo, AZ. (2019)

Lowell, AZ (2019).

Pahrump, NV (2022).

Fort Davis, TX (2021).

Marfa, TX. (2021).

Bisbee, AZ (2016)

Scenic, SD (2017)

Trona, CA (2021).

“East from Bill, north of Bill, the dirt roads north and east of Bill - whatever exactly it is, it is potent up there: unadorned curve of the earth.” - Merrill Gilfillan, “Magpie Rising."

Bill, WY. (2017)

Dome Fire 1. Mojave National Preserve, CA. (2021)

This is the site of the Dome Fire in the northern part of Mojave National Preserve in California. While here, I thought about how our major news outlets often describe wildfire in the West. They throw around words like “devastating” and “destroyed” when describing the fire's effects as they often couch wildfire in economic, and not ecological, terms.

In August 2020, a lightning-caused fire burned over 43,000 acres here. It was uncontrolled for several days, mostly because it was burning in an uninhabited area, and fire fighting resources were needed in other parts of the state at the time.

Walking through this area almost a year later with an ecologist’s eye and ear, I discovered signs of life, knowing from years of experience that an ecosystem is never fully “destroyed” by fire. Life finds a way through the changes. There are grasses and wildflowers growing in spots, cicadas buzzing, and ants working. I see butterflies, birds, and squirrels. However, park biologists are monitoring the regrowth carefully because in similar situations, non-native plants have become established in burned over ecosystems, which can lead to more intense and frequent fires in the future.

What is disheartening here are the charred trunks of so many Joshua trees. This area was home to one of the largest stands of Joshua trees anywhere and in the 2020 fire, park officials estimate over 1.3 million trees were burned. Some will recover slowly, that's the way of plants. But many are dead, or are expected to die, especially in the face of record heat and continuous drought. It is an astounding landscape to witness, and for those of us who love these iconic and beautiful plants, it is devastating. I fear what I see here is the future for the Joshua tree in this era of epic heat, fire, and drought, and I mourn their loss.