Landscape Gallery
Photographed on the Cimarron River in Cimarron Canyon State Park, New Mexico Flowing beneath steep canyon walls and dense pine, this section of the Cimarron River runs through a landscape that feels rugged, quiet, and unchanged. The clear water, rocky banks, and thick forest all come together in a way that feels honest and grounded. Cimarron Canyon is the kind of place that doesn’t need much explanation—just time, attention, and a willingness to slow down.
Photographed at Sand Dune Arch, Arches National Park, Utah Sand Dune Arch sits tucked between narrow stone walls, with a trail that feels more like walking a red sand shoreline than a desert path. It’s one of the more photographed spots in the park, but being there still feels personal—quiet, sheltered, and almost surreal. Rather than capture the arch head-on, I waited for the light and shadows to shape something different. The contrast revealed a side of the formation that felt less about landmarks and more about presence. Some places invite you to slow down and see differently.
Photographed in Arches National Park, Utah Arches is full of dramatic formations, but this one struck something different. Standing before it, I couldn’t help imagining what it might have been like to grow up here—long before the paved roads and park maps. The curves, the crevices, the open air—it all feels like a place meant to be lived in, not just looked at. A place to run, climb, hide, and rest. Photos like this are reminders not just of where we’ve been, but what it felt like to be part of the land rather than just passing through.
Photographed in Arches National Park, Utah I later learned this formation is called “Three Gossips,” but that’s not what I saw when I took the photo. To me, it looked like a pioneer family—four figures huddling close to one another, surveying a vast, unfamiliar, and unforgiving land. Trying to determine their next move. There’s something about this part of Arches that feels both overwhelming and inviting. The open space, the scale of the rock, the silence—it all adds up to a kind of wild beauty that makes you feel small in the best possible way. It’s a landscape that doesn’t offer easy comfort, but it gives you time to think. And that’s worth holding onto.
