The eerie figurines called Tufa’s, jetting from the salty floors and casting reflections off the shoreline, not only made an interesting composition for this shot, but gave the viewer a sense of an ecosystem struggling for survival. The entire night was still except for the water rhythmically slapping the shoreline, mosquitoes buzzing for a bite, or the occasional click of Brad’s timed shutter, patiently capturing what the eye cannot see.
I thought of a labyrinth of labyrinths, of one sinuous spreading labyrinth that would encompass the past and the future and in some way involve the stars. -Jorge Luis Borges The Garden of Forking Paths (1942)
Native to volcanic soils of the Oregon Badlands, old growth junipers steadfastly remind us of the old ways. Elder shadows dating back a millennium, keep watch over ancient windblown volcanic ash, each grain comprising of human history.
