It’s a pattern easily found in nature, in rippled water and sliced tree trunks.

The sight of dust suspended in sunlight has always captivated me.

If it felt anything, it might have been longing for the other side, the same longing I’ve felt at different points in my life.

It was like seeing a parade or glitch in the matrix. I reflexively shot each one using a slow shutter speed until the rush ended with a white semi-truck, sporting only a streak of blue.

I visited Springville marsh boardwalk recently, pausing along the way to photograph dried leaves that still clung to their branches like ghosts haunting their houses.

When I first saw photographer’s do this to create “abstract” photos, I was a little put-off by it and didn’t fully understand why until I tried it myself.

I swiftly merged onto the highway like a blood cell exiting a vein for an artery.

Spring is the season of birth and the soil is where it starts.

I envisioned her walking to the familiar riverbank, at the end of her life, at the end of a season.

I nudged it with my foot and could feel the weight of its innards shift around inside.

Loss is a facilitator of gratitude.

The consumption habits of these larvae are comparable to our own.

Through the lens of my camera, the exit sign morphed into a single flaming red dot.

Had it not been preserved and presented to the viewer as a single static image, the moment might have been overlooked.

The new natural.