A Walk Through the Cemetery, Part 2 After we pass through the entrances, the details begin to take over. What Remains When Nobody Is Looking When seeing from a distance, cemeteries feel quiet.. orderly. Rows, symmetry, space. Up close, though, that order begins to break down. Edges soften; surfaces wear. Materials shift under years of harsh exposure. I find myself drawn less to the grave markers as objects and more to their stories, what happened to them. Human Attempt vs Tim

A Walk Through the Cemetery, Part 1 Every cemetery has a threshold. The threshold may be a door, a gate, a narrow path between stones, or even simply a feeling. This one is a driveway branching into multiple dirt roads, silent stones marking the pathways. I have visited this cemetery more than once. I enjoy the subtle variations, the differences in the way the light falls, the unrestrained changes, and the observations missed on preceding visits. It is always beautiful, conti

Midday sun and a cemetery. Not the textbook combination certainly, but I went anyway. Not because the light was ideal, but because that’s when I was there. Walking through a cemetery in the middle of the day, the light is blunt and unromantic. Nothing is softened; it isn't cinematic. Every crack, every patch of lichen, every letter carved is exposed. It's honest. It's real. Midday doesn’t hide anything. It shows age plainly. Memory after the last visit. Color against winter

Between the desert and what comes next, there was snow. Record breaking winter storms were predicted this weekend and snowfall kept us comfortably inside for two days. But today, we were finally allowed some much needed outdoor breath. Movement No hesitation And escape for myself. Not alone out here. Beneath the snow, something is still moving. Stay safe and warm.