Clinging to Life
A lone juniper continues its solitary vigil at lands end as the golden light of sunrise fills the skies and canyons, Dead Horse Point, Utah. I found it necessary to de-saturate the yellows during processing, as the color bordered on surreal.
The desert is a difficult place for many species, yet despite its beautiful and inhospitable face, there are those who cling to life, their history entwined with and shaped by the challenges posed by this place. As we continue to warm the planet, it is anticipated that the deserts of the mountainous West will become both hotter and drier, pushing desert inhabitants to meet challenges that are beyond their evolutionary experience. Already, the thin forests of Pinyon and Juniper are dying back from the most marginal places.
On a day of thanks, when we focus on gratitude for those people and places in our lives that bring us joy and love, I also wonder about what we can do individually and collectively to give back to this land that supports our bodies and fills our spirits. I have been reading 'Braiding Sweetgrass,' by Robin Kimmerer, and she repeatedly makes the point that native cultures were born from the land, and rooted in a sense of reciprocity with the land. Perhaps too often, we think of preserving land as leaving it alone, when in fact, it is our active loving and caring for the land that can help it flourish most beautifully.
I have not yet figured out how to give back to the land, to show how grateful I am for mornings such as this one, as well as all the others. At the very least, the challenge is clear, and for that I am also grateful.
Clinging to Life
A lone juniper continues its solitary vigil at lands end as the golden light of sunrise fills the skies and canyons, Dead Horse Point, Utah. I found it necessary to de-saturate the yellows during processing, as the color bordered on surreal.
The desert is a difficult place for many species, yet despite its beautiful and inhospitable face, there are those who cling to life, their history entwined with and shaped by the challenges posed by this place. As we continue to warm the planet, it is anticipated that the deserts of the mountainous West will become both hotter and drier, pushing desert inhabitants to meet challenges that are beyond their evolutionary experience. Already, the thin forests of Pinyon and Juniper are dying back from the most marginal places.
On a day of thanks, when we focus on gratitude for those people and places in our lives that bring us joy and love, I also wonder about what we can do individually and collectively to give back to this land that supports our bodies and fills our spirits. I have been reading 'Braiding Sweetgrass,' by Robin Kimmerer, and she repeatedly makes the point that native cultures were born from the land, and rooted in a sense of reciprocity with the land. Perhaps too often, we think of preserving land as leaving it alone, when in fact, it is our active loving and caring for the land that can help it flourish most beautifully.
I have not yet figured out how to give back to the land, to show how grateful I am for mornings such as this one, as well as all the others. At the very least, the challenge is clear, and for that I am also grateful.