The First Day of Spring
Spring arrives subtly. The light lingers a little longer, and water begins to stir again. In the Pacific Northwest, the first day of spring is less about arrival and more about quiet change.
Spring arrives subtly. The light lingers a little longer, and water begins to stir again. In the Pacific Northwest, the first day of spring is less about arrival and more about quiet change.
Each March, the Pacific Northwest landscape begins to shift. Light softens, rivers move again, and the forest slowly changes. This reflection explores how seasonal transitions shape photography, creativity, and the quiet connection between landscape and the spaces where we live.
I made this photograph along a remote tributary of Summit Prairie Creek in Gifford Pinchot National Forest. The falls were simply water over rock, but being there felt like listening to a rhythm that began long before me and will continue long after. In this post I share that moment, the choices behind the image, and why black and white helps reveal the land’s steady presence.
Morning light near Trout Lake revealed glowing autumn trees against a dark forested hillside. A quiet Pacific Northwest moment captured in black and white.
Every room needs something that draws the eye. In this reflection, I explore how artwork quietly becomes the focal point of a space and why choosing art you love can shape the feeling of your home.
While driving forest roads on the Olympic Peninsula, I noticed a small waterfall through the trees. Water split around a moss-covered boulder before joining again below. It was a quiet moment that revealed how movement and stillness share the same place.
nter to win a signed fine art print of Silent Mirror, a black-and-white photograph of Mount Adams reflected in Takhlakh Lake. The March giveaway winner will be announced April 1, 2026.
A black-and-white photograph of fog moving beneath forested ridges on the Olympic Peninsula, exploring atmosphere, stillness, and the quiet structure of the landscape.
High above Timberline on Mt. Hood, snow and volcanic rock meet under a low summer cloud. In black and white, structure replaces spectacle. This photograph explores the threshold between human presence and geologic time, revealing the mountain in a quieter, more enduring light.