The nature of change

The basalt columns on Reynisfjara beach in southern Iceland have stood there for at least a few thousand years. A black sand beach has put the towering hexagons within easy reach for as long as anyone can remember. But in a flash, or rather a winter storm, the columns, a product of an ancient volcanic eruption, are now out at sea, the beach cleared away.

A peaceful force

I’m fortunate to live in a area with so many distinctive landscape features. I could recognize Mount Rainier, certain waterfalls, or parts of the Pacific Northwest coast from rough sketches.

While their defining characteristics are burned into my memory, they were not always that way. Just as my hair has changed color over the decades, so, too, have their appearances. One of the ways I find tranquility in nature is to slow down and watch that change at work.

Flowers don't last forever

This week, I said goodbye to Buttercup Meadow. Most of the time, the name sounds prettier than the actual meadow is, but for a few weeks a year, it is a truly glorious place. Or at least it was.

Never the same arrangement twice

My style of photography has always been to capture a "living wilderness." I believe the Earth is as alive as we are. And that means it is dynamic — always changing.

Because our lifespans are so short, it's hard to fathom a time when Mount Rainier wasn't there, when the Hawaiian islands were tiny buds on the bottom of the ocean, when the Grand Canyon was filled. But there are plenty of changes that we can witness.