glad of the way of the world
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"I was glad of the way of the world, that morning." - Archie Carr, The Windward Road
This set of photographs may be the most personal, and therefore, most meaningful to me. It is only recently that I have been moved to share them here.
Many years ago I realized that when traveling solo in remote places with my camera, I could move at my own pace. I enjoyed it greatly. I began to see things in a way that felt deeper and more perceptive than if I were with others. And at the same time, I discovered a love for the open places in the southwestern US, especially in the high deserts close to the border with Mexico. I started to experience landscapes more intently, I saw patterns revealed in light and in rock, and I learned that existence can manifest itself in ways that can pass unobserved by humans in our brief and narrow perception of time.
I don’t consider these photographs of loneliness or isolation. Instead, I hope they express a sense of comfort and connection with the Earth and with a place. My intention is to one day see them printed or projected on a large scale, giving the viewer a sense of being immersed into the landscape no matter what the size of the subject. There is nothing like a sunrise in the desert.
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Mule's Ears, Big Bend National Park, TX (2019)
Lesser Nighthawks over Tornillo Flat, Big Bend National Park, TX. (2021)
Great Sand Dunes National Park, CO. (2013)
Great Sand Dunes National Park, CO. (2013)
Kelso Dunes, Mojave National Preserve, CA. (2019)
Great Sand Dunes National Park, CO (2013)
Sonoran Desert, AZ (2019)
Saguaro National Monument, AZ (2019)
Rhyolite 1. Rhyolite, NV. (2021)
Artist's Palette #2. Death Valley National Park, CA (2021)
Kelso Dunes 9, Mojave National Preserve, CA. (2019)
Kelso Dunes 8, Mojave National Preserve, CA. (2019)
Kelso Dunes 7, Mojave National Preserve, CA. (2019)
Kelso Dunes 1, Mojave National Preserve, CA. (2019)
Kelso Dunes 3, Mojave National Preserve, CA. (2019)
Kelso Dunes 6, Mojave National Preserve, CA. (2019)
Mesquite Flats 1, Death Valley National Park, CA. (2021)
Ajo 4. Ajo, AZ. (2019)
Ajo 19. Ajo, AZ. (2019)
Marathon, TX (2021).
Marathon, TX (2021)
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.
White Sands National Monument, NM. (2019)
White Sands National Monument, NM. (2019)
Scenic, SD (2017)
“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.