Note to the Owl Woods

A subtle hint of spring, in the way of a few days’ worth of warm air settling across the region—welcomed with open arms this time of year—though in late February, I hesitate to believe that a Montana winter is up and leaving just yet. I made this image a few years ago. It was June, and the young owlets were finally grown enough to allow mom a break from the nest bowl every now and then. The tail end of a spring rain encouraged some drying out of the wings in a nearby tree, and a few moments of passive listening to voles and pocket gophers in the grasses below. Time in the owl woods is measured by the sun drifting across the sky, and food deliveries that arrive by mid morning, and again in the late afternoon. When it’s too dark to see through the old growth that lines the western edge of that so familiar meadow, it’s time to go back home. As it turns out, life is simple when you simplify it. I look forward to more moments there soon.

Winter

Not sure it’ll ever leave this year, but moments like this are a good reminder to feel grateful for having it.

2024

 

Dawn over the Bolivian Amazon. Cellphone photo from the plane window.

 

“The commitment in these circumstances, I believe, is actually to something larger than the self. You get in the right frame of mind to drop through that narrow hole in the ice by recalling the love you bear your friends, and that they bear you; by stimulating the professional need to make thorough, and accurate notes; and by appreciating an opportunity to give curiosity its full rein. You can’t do this every day, but you can once in a while. You can enter that place inside yourself where you privately meet your fears and say, ‘Yes. I know. But please, come with me. What we’re about to see is greater than the thing you’re running from.’”

Barry Lopez, Embrace Fearlessly the Burning World

~

This time last year, I was thinking about Patagonia. Well, actually, I had been thinking about Patagonia for quite a while by the time January 1st came around, mainly in the sense that before long, Andean condors would be gliding above me, and I had a story to tell about a person I hardly knew. If my mind went to the right place, my heart would start racing. I was less than a month from boarding a plane that would take me across the equator, roughly 6,000 miles from home, to a country I had heard lots about, but no one in my entire family lineage had ever set foot in. I thought about the thousands of dollars of uninsured camera equipment I had traveling beside me, and the fact that my long legs and tight back would have to endure a full day’s worth of travel on plane seats, airport floors and buses. Would I even make it?

~

“It’s all temporary,” Vero said, as we flew over northern Yellowstone, my eyes glued to my binoculars, pressed to the plastic of the plane window and fixated on Grand Teton, emerging with prominence from the relatively flat volcanic plateau that comprised the landscape just north of it. “What is so bad about this moment you’re in? Don’t think ahead, think about the present.” She was right. Her words eased my anxieties ever so slightly. Vero was well traveled, and not a month earlier, she had completed the same exact flight to Atlanta, then to Buenos Aires, and finally Bariloche, to visit her parents for the holidays. We were about thirty minutes into that twenty-six hour journey south. In hindsight, it was over before it began.

~

2024 may have been the best year of my life, though, I hesitate to compare them. I think a lot about those around me, and the year they may have experienced. I think about the good people that left earth this year, and the others that came into it. I try to be humble, and most importantly, infinitely grateful. Every day is just another in the grand adventure. I am hopeful for the year ahead, and hope you are too.

Feliz año nuevo.

To See the Sky - World Premiere Info

 
 

To See the Sky is merely a mystery to most of you, minus a few stills and stories, and my writing and rambling about the life changing experience that was six weeks spent in Patagonia this winter. Today is a special day, as I’m excited to announce that the world premiere of To See the Sky will be in Salt Lake City, Utah this September, at the Wasatch Mountain Film Festival.

This is a story that I hold especially close to my heart, about Lorenzo Sympson, a person who has inspired so many to look up. It’s also a story about the Andean condor, its significance and the challenges it faces. But perhaps most importantly, it’s a story about life, its joy, its hardships, its indelible moments, and what makes it worth living.

I’m beyond thankful to all of those involved in this process, from brainstorming, to planning and carrying out what undoubtedly became my most cherished life experience to date.

We’re proud of this one. I’m proud of this one.

Trailer and more info coming soon.