The old bull

I’ve been “secretly” working on a new non-fiction project. My agent Lane and I are bouncing images and text back and forth seeing how to best tackle this. The project will document my photography in the west (almost two decades worth) amongst other conservation issues.

This image is featured in the project.

In remembrance.

I had a jam-packed couple of days recently. Had a gig west of the divide and camped out. On the way home, I ventured into the remote northern Bitterroots to release my grandmother’s ashes.

I ended up getting lost up at 6k during a wicked storm on my way to find a hidden lake. Trees were cracking and teetering, debris swirled in the air. Then the storm cleared as if it was never there, and a rainbow appeared over the wilderness. A few minutes later I found the lake, and spread the ashes in the largest wilderness ecosystem in the lower 48, right on the Idaho/Montana border in sub-alpine country still rimmed with snowfields. I could hear a waterfall crashing into the lake as I spread the ashes.

My grandmother was amazingly strong and independent…a centering force. I looked up to her that way, and I hope it rubbed off on me.

Thanks for everything, grandma.

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Bitterroot rainbow 3

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