Breathe
Overview
I made a video about being present. It has ironically been a distraction. Alex and I went camping for the first time since 2019, and Zion turned one year old. This post is a collage of recent events connected only by time.
Video
I’ve had a difficult time being present.
Lately it’s felt like I’m either staring at a map, wondering where to go next, or I’m looking in the rear view mirror, nostalgic for what once was. I’ve struggled to keep my eyes on the road, and the miles keep passing.
Any excuse to go to the woods is a good one, so I packed my truck and headed to Juniper Prairie Wilderness to make a video exploring these thoughts.
There’s an area in Juniper Prairie Wilderness that Alex and I call “the Capitol.” It’s a grouping of dead oak and pine trees protruding from the edge of a large prairie. I created a night time lapse there in 2017 when we discovered it.
I hauled my Mamiya RB67 out there for some photos.
The Capitol is now a scene of change. Large branches have dropped, more trees have died, and adolescent pines have sprung up in their place.
I stood there with my camera while my mind straddled the divide between what this place was and what it was becoming.
I opened the video with the 2017 time lapse. It felt right introducing the Capitol in this way. I think it helps reinforce the theme of time passing, things changing, and trying to remain present in the midst of it all.
Camping
My friend Alex and I have spent the past four years documenting Juniper Prairie Wilderness. We’ve made over 40 trips during that time, exploring the connected chains of prairies that mark the landscape.
Last month we camped beneath a pine tree we call “Medusa,” which is just north of the Capitol. It was our first time camping since 2019.
We arrived on a Friday night with plans to camp in a pine forest near the Fire Trail. We changed our minds at the last minute, deciding instead to park on the north end of the Prairie and hike south to Medusa. I enjoyed the spontaneity.
We set up camp, made some dinner, took some pictures and just talked.
It rained the following morning, so we didn’t stay long. Just long enough to poke around and note some recent changes to the area.
If you were to visit this place only once, you would only know a single version of it. But returning throughout the years has given me a deeper understanding. The woods is not a static location holding on to the same form; it’s a dynamic character, always growing and fading, growing, fading.
We stuffed our wet tents into our backpacks and started north toward the car. It was a simple trip and a much needed one.
Zion’s birthday
This isn’t an original observation, but it’s strange how time can simultaneously feel both fast and slow. I seem to always want more of it or less of it, but rarely do I want the amount I’m given.
Zion turned one on February 6, and I’m unsure how to process everything. It’s been a strange year navigating pandemic life and fatherhood. Watching her grow has been one of my greatest joys.
I’ll stop before I get too philosophical, but I thought this was an appropriate place to leave things. Zion is springing up, and it seems the same cycle present in the woods is present in my home, too.
Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
-T. S. Eliot, Burnt Norton