My road lies East.
Since ever I remember, wilderness photography, for me, meant the American West. In my twenties, my wife and I would drive for days to come to where the rocky spine of the world broke the plains. At the beginning of my thirties, I lived for three years on the incomparable hearth of California.
May we all be so lucky.
Be it six months away, eastern my road lies and come fall it I will travel. I hope I have room in my bags for a few lessons learnt on the strands and mountainsides of a wild, western land.
We always knew that this, too, would pass and knew also that we'd be forever grateful for these 36 months. To the next six, may they be even a shadow of their larger part already spent.