Where these photographs come from
About this work
I live and work in New England, where the landscape is never static. Much of my photography is made along New Hampshire’s coastal stops, forest trail systems, marshes, and waterways — places that move through dramatic seasonal shifts. Winter is brilliantly bright. Autumn is dense with color. Spring buds and wakes with furious activity, and summer brings deep greens, blossoms, and insects. Those transitions are a constant source of fascination, and the photographs are meant to hold those experiences.
I’m a recreational hiker and kayaker, guided by principles of conservation, especially when I’m out photographing nature. I stay on trails, leave nothing behind, and take nothing with me except images. When I photograph animals, I keep my distance, allowing them to remain safe in their own spaces.
Photography gives me a way to relive these experiences long after I’ve left a place. Deep in the forest, kayaking through marshes and estuaries, or standing at the edge of a reservoir, I notice moments I want to return to later. Images become prompts for memory — the shimmer of light on water, the way it filters through trees, or how stillness settles over a place for just a moment.
I started taking photographs as a child, around eight years old. My earliest images were simple — mostly of the sky, because I loved the blue then, and still do. I photographed my chickens. I photographed my little brother, who was ten years younger than me and my constant companion. One of my favorite early photographs is of him perched in a tree — an image that earned me a bit of trouble when my mother saw it. I still have that photograph decades later, because it holds both the image and the story that came with it.
That impulse hasn’t changed much. I love zooming in on details my eyes alone can’t fully see: blossoms, insects, mushrooms, frogs, salamanders, snakes, chipmunks — though not all creatures are willing collaborators. I’m especially drawn to the way light moves through the landscape: how it rests on flowers, catches on stone walls in the woods, or shifts constantly across water. I’m interested in contrasts wherever I find them, and lately I’ve been curious about still lifes too — we’ll see where that goes.
This project is simply how I choose to share what I see. The photographs come from walking slowly, paying attention, and returning again and again to places that never look quite the same twice.
