“Virga” is the name for precipitation that does not reach the ground. It hangs across the desert like a torn curtain.
It might be more necessary than ever to develop an eye for the timeless.
The desert silence baffles my Midwestern mind.
If starvation was on the table, would you rather eat your own finger or a stranger’s?
Death Valley is a place where ten thousand acres of scenery can easily go missing.
Shuffling through nature’s silence with strangers felt oddly intimate.
London. A storm named Eunice is churning over the Celtic Sea, and the news is advertising it heavily.
We contemplated where waterfalls came from and wondered how saltwater becomes freshwater and vice versa.
I came across moments in the forest that felt ceremonial, the ancient rites of geology operating at scales beyond my comprehension.
