Before the open miles came narrow paths.
Mornings, days, nights spent in the wild, waiting silently for light or movement.
These photographs aren’t what led to my current journey;
somehow, they’re part of it, just seen from an earlier horizon.
Before the open miles came narrow paths.
Mornings, days, nights spent in the wild, waiting silently for light or movement.
These photographs aren’t what led to my current journey;
somehow, they’re part of it, just seen from an earlier horizon.