The Imnaha River Valley, Oregon
It’s not you. It’s me. Honest.
There are places in the world that are still spaces. Sparsely populated, difficult to get to, sometimes dangerous, always rewarding.
I took this photo of a space that I hope never becomes a place.
Maybe I am doing something very wrong here at The Road not Taken Enough. Or very right. Either way, I think they missed their target audience.
And let’s talk about redundancy.
I took this photo as a screenshot of my email today… Maybe I should register them for my website?
I’m totally gonna do that.
That would create nostalgic awesomeness, for sure.
p.s., they are not writing the stories behind my photos
p.p.s., and gods help whoever gets the personal legacy of the real me.
I mean, seriously.
It’s all about me!
Mine! Mine! Mine!
I took this photo. Everything else… well, you know.
Footnote: Awe and humility, interspecies relationship – big brain v. big body.
It is impossible for me to feel confident in the world these days. The natural disasters alone will set most any thinking person on edge. Add the political instability, of which the US president is a primary source, the ongoing racial, religious, and economic development conflicts, renewed nuclear threats, the mass destruction of the remaining wild places, unprecedented extinctions, the demise of clean water, climate change, and the pillaging of natural resources in places that were thought inviolable and there is enough to stop your heart from beating.
We have big brains. How can we be so utterly ignorant and stupid?
I have a sense of how insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things. I am but one person. If I don’t answer “urgent” phone calls, emails, or texts, emergencies will be resolved, decisions will be made, and the world will go on. No matter how famous, infamous, rich, or important I may become, all trace of me (except my plastic legacy) will disappear in the blink of a geologic eye. In totality, and geologically, human beings are not of much greater significance.
We evolved big brains that allowed us to domesticate plants and animals for food, turn metal into tools, create art and music, and to send men to the moon. If we are not going to use our brains for the collective good of the human population – not to mention the Earth as our only sustaining home – then I can only hope that the whole of humanity is found to be evolutionarily insignificant and passes the way of the dodo. Which, not incidentally, was wiped out by humans.
I took this photo to record the awe and humility I felt simply stepping into an elephant’s footprint in its native African home. If we cannot appreciate the magnificence of the world around us and rally our collective intellect to better sustain us and the resources we depend upon, we deserve to be nothing more than an archeological footnote to a more evolved species of the future. Perhaps something with a big body rather than a big brain. I hope it’s the elephants.
An outhouse door blown open by the winter winds leaves a girl out in the cold.
The absolute opposite of being on the hot seat.
Worksite management specifically rented outhouses as a “courtesy” to the girls on site.
I took this photo as an example of a good idea poorly implemented. Those who don’t have to sit down, don’t always understand the importance of latching the door.