-
![Foggy autumn field with dry grass and distant trees in soft light in Cades Cove, Smoky Mountains]()
"Quiet Ground"
Cades Cove, Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2015
Mist settles over a fading field in the Cove, where autumn’s final breath clings to the stems. In this silence, time softens and the landscape becomes a memory—not of what’s lost, but of what quietly endures.
Click for more information -
![A lone tree stands rooted in calm, reflective flood waters under a soft blue sky, its vibrant green leaves glowing against the misty backdrop in a tranquil, almost surreal scene.]()
"Sole Survivor"
Nashville, TN, 2017I came across this tree standing alone in the flooded shallows, and it stopped me in my tracks. Everything around it was still—the water, the air, the light. It felt like the world had paused just long enough for this moment to exist. There was something quiet and stubborn about it, holding its place without fanfare. I didn’t need to say much—just set up, breathe, and try to get it right. -
![A bare tree stands silhouetted against a fading twilight sky, where deep blues melt into warm golden hues above the darkening hills in this peaceful and contemplative scene.]()
"Twilight Silhouette"
Chilhowee, TN 2016On the edge of Chilhowee Mountain, I watched the last light fade behind the ridge as this bare tree stood in quiet silhouette. There was hardly a sound—just a few birds settling in and the soft hush of the wind. The sky held onto its color for a few extra minutes, like it didn’t want to let go either. Moments like this feel simple, still, and just right -
![]()
"Dancing at Dawn"
Hilton Head Island, SC 2014
A warm breeze moved through the grasses, just enough to stir their silhouettes against the morning sky. The horizon hadn’t fully declared itself yet—clouds drifting, light gathering. I was drawn to the quiet tension in that in-between moment, where nothing demanded attention, but everything invited it.
-
![An abstract close-up of ornamental grass in Chattanooga, TN, featuring a dreamy blend of purple and green blades with soft focus and delicate seed heads dancing in evening light.]()
"Becoming"
Chattanooga, TN 2015I made this image in a small area where the grasses were just beginning to shift with the wind. What drew me in were the colors—deep purples and luminous greens—and the way the seed heads caught the fading light. Rather than focus on sharp detail, I wanted to create something softer and more immersive, where the boundaries between foreground and background would begin to dissolve. This photograph isn’t about the field itself but about the experience of standing quietly within it. For me, it’s about transition and becoming—where nature feels like breath, gesture, and memory, all woven into a moment that’s already slipping away. -
![Soft layers of misty fog drift between the ridges of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, creating a moody blue panorama that captures the park’s namesake atmosphere just before dawn.]()
"Blue Mist"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2016A cold front had just moved through the Smoky Mountains, and the storm clouds were beginning to lift. What remained was this layered blue mist draped across the ridgelines—soft and moody, like the mountains were slowly exhaling. I stood there for a while, taking it all in, grateful for the quiet moment between weather and light. -
![Golden morning light breaks through the misty fog to highlight forested ridges in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, casting a soft glow across the autumn landscape beneath deep blue shadows.]()
"Morning Mist"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2015A break in the clouds let the morning light pour across the ridgeline like a slow-moving spotlight. The Smokies were still holding onto mist from the night before, and the contrast between that glowing strip of trees and the deep shadows around it stopped me in my tracks. It was one of those moments you can’t plan—just pure luck and being in the right place when the mountains decide to show off. -
![Golden light breaks through dark clouds to illuminate autumn-covered ridges in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, casting dramatic highlights across the layered forested slopes.]()
"The Calm Before"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2015Storm clouds gathered above the Smokies, casting a dramatic contrast between darkened skies and sunlit ridges. The last light swept across the hills like a slow breath, igniting the autumn canopy with fleeting warmth. In moments like this, the landscape feels suspended—caught between tension and peace, shadow and brilliance. -
![A fiery orange sunrise glows above mist-covered hills along the Natchez Trace Parkway in Franklin, TN, where layers of fog drift silently through the shadowed valleys.]()
"Natchez Sunrise 1"
Franklin, TN, 2017That morning atop the Natchez Trace Bridge started in stillness. As the first light pushed against the darkness, the fog settled thick over the valley below, tracing the hills in soft, shifting layers. This was one of the earliest frames I made—before the sun broke the horizon. The quiet intensity of the pre-dawn sky, glowing orange above the silhouetted ridgelines, felt electric and expectant. I was drawn to the mood—subtle, surreal, and full of promise. -
![A fiery orange sunrise glows above mist-covered hills along the Natchez Trace Parkway in Franklin, TN, where layers of fog drift silently through the shadowed valleys.]()
"Natchez Sunrise 2"
Franklin, TN, 2017Just minutes later, the sun breached the horizon, flooding the scene with radiant gold. I captured this moment as the fog began to lift and stretch through the trees, while beams of light carved their way through the mist. It was a classic sunrise image in many ways, but the sheer drama of the contrast between light and shadow made it feel fresh and alive. There's a kind of awakening here—nature catching its breath as day begins. -
![Sunlight bursts over a foggy ridge along the Natchez Trace Parkway in Franklin, TN, casting golden rays through rolling fog that blankets the valley in a dreamy, ethereal glow.]()
"Natchez Sunrise 3"
Franklin, TN, 2017This was the most luminous moment of the series. The sun had risen just high enough to pour over the ridge, its rays spreading like fingers across the low fog. I stood quietly, awestruck by the clarity and warmth, how the entire scene pulsed with light. It was over in a flash—fog shifting, light changing—but I managed to catch this balance of brilliance and atmosphere that still feels dreamlike to me. -
![Golden sunbeams pierce the morning fog, casting dramatic light across the treetops along the Natchez Trace Parkway in Franklin, TN, creating a peaceful and ethereal start to the day.]()
"Natchez Sunrise 4"
Franklin, TN, 2017A morning well spent atop the Natchez Trace Bridge, hovering over Highway 96 West in Franklin, TN. This was the last shot in the series, and while it was only moments after I took the first three images, it speaks to me in a different way. The composition is quieter, more abstract, focused on light cascading through the trees like liquid gold. This is the kind of imagery that resonates with me most—the subtle play between form and feeling, the suggestion of a moment rather than its declaration. The ever-changing light and low-hanging fog in that place and at that moment were unforgettable, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to create any of the images in this series. -
![Golden autumn trees glow through a veil of morning mist above the still waters of Wheeler Lake in Alabama, their reflections softly blending with the fog for a dreamlike, painterly effect.]()
"Autumn Mist"
Rogersville, AL, 2014This was one of those mornings that felt like a gift. I arrived just as the mist began to rise off the water, catching the first light of day. The fall color on the far bank glowed softly, half-veiled by fog, and the lake reflected it all like a dream not yet fully awake. I didn’t rush to shoot. I stood there for a while, just watching the scene unfold in silence—trying to match the stillness with my own breath before lifting the camera. This image is my attempt to hold on to that quiet, golden moment. -
![Layers of ridges fade into the distance at dawn in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, as a warm orange glow spreads across the sky, casting soft light over the dark, rolling silhouettes of the mountains.]()
"Daybreak 1"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2015Morning light spilled gently over the Smoky Mountains, peeling back layers of mist to reveal the quiet rhythm of the ridgelines. The stillness was almost sacred—no wind, no birdsong, just the hush of the world waking up. These moments always stop me in my tracks, when the veil lifts and the landscape feels both eternal and fleeting. -
![A gentle mountain stream flows through a misty forest in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, framed by mossy rocks, fallen leaves, and two leaning trees that seem to embrace in the quiet calm of autumn.]()
"Lean on Me"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2016On this foggy morning in the Smokies, the forest was quiet except for the steady murmur of this small cascade. What caught my eye wasn’t just the water or the rocks—it was the pair of leaning trees in the foreground, almost as if one was supporting the other. There was something deeply human in their posture, something about companionship and quiet resilience. I titled this image Lean on Me because it felt like a visual metaphor for how we get through life—weathered, rooted, and better together. -
![The brick columns of the Old Sheldon Church ruins rise hauntingly among moss-draped oaks in Yemassee, SC, bathed in soft, golden light that adds a timeless, reverent mood to the historic site.]()
"Sheldon Ruins 2"Yemassee, SC, 2016I made this photograph during a quiet afternoon at the ruins of Old Sheldon Church. The light was soft, diffused through the oaks and their veil of Spanish moss, casting a gentle glow across the weathered brick. This particular composition caught my eye—the way the arched tree frames the open columns, as if bowing in reverence to what remains.
There’s something sacred about this place that goes beyond its history—beyond the wars that scarred it or the worship that once filled it. It feels like the land itself remembers. Standing there with my camera, I wasn’t just making an image; I was listening, waiting for the right moment to respond to what the place seemed to be saying.
-
![The brick columns of the Old Sheldon Church ruins rise hauntingly among moss-draped oaks in Yemassee, SC, bathed in soft, golden light that adds a timeless, reverent mood to the historic site.]()
"Sheldon Ruins 3"
Yemassee, SC, 2016I made this image at the ruins of Old Sheldon Church, a hauntingly beautiful site steeped in history and silence. Originally built between 1745 and 1753 in the Greek Revival style, the church was twice reduced to ruins—first by the British during the Revolutionary War in 1779, and again by Sherman’s troops in 1865.
When my wife and I visited in 2016, we had the place to ourselves. The stillness was profound, broken only by the rustle of Spanish moss and the occasional birdcall. As the light filtered through the empty arches, it felt as though the structure itself was holding its breath—whispers of loss, resilience, and sacred memory lingering in the air. I tried to honor that feeling with this photograph, capturing the quiet dignity of a place shaped by both destruction and devotion.
-
![A massive fallen tree lies nestled in the forest undergrowth of the North Georgia mountains, its textured bark glowing with moss and filtered light while new greenery sprouts around it, echoing the cycle of life.]()
"Resting Giant"
Dahlonega, GA 2017I came across this fallen tree deep in the woods, and it immediately felt like more than just a piece of the landscape—it felt like a resting giant. The curves and textures of the trunk were full of character, like a weathered sculpture shaped by time, decay, and resilience. Soft light filtered through the canopy and highlighted the mosses and young growth taking hold, reminding me that even in stillness, life continues. I was drawn to the quiet dignity of this scene—a reminder that beauty doesn’t always stand tall; sometimes, it lies low and waits to be noticed. -
![A serene stream cascades over mossy rocks beneath a canopy of autumn leaves in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, surrounded by lush forest and golden foliage in the soft glow of a misty fall day.]()
"Smoky Mountain Stream 4"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2016There’s something grounding about following a mountain stream deep into the Smokies. This little cascade, tucked beneath golden leaves and framed by mossy rocks, was one of those quiet places where time seems to slow down. The mist had just started to lift, and the sound of the water was the only thing breaking the stillness. I could’ve stayed there all day, watching the way the light moved through the trees and the leaves floated downstream—just soaking in the calm that only a place like this can offer.
-
![Cascading ribbons of water spill over tiered rock ledges at the base of Twin Falls in Rock Island State Park, creating a mesmerizing curtain of motion and texture in this serene and elegant scene.]()
"Waterworks 1"
Rock Island S.P., TN, 2015This image captures just a small section of the base of Twin Falls at Rock Island State Park in Tennessee, but even in this narrow slice, the complexity and beauty of the waterfall are striking. I was drawn to the intricate pattern of water spilling over the rock shelves—like silk unraveling in layers. Using a long exposure allowed me to smooth the motion, revealing the elegant rhythm hidden within the chaos. What I love about this frame is how it focuses on the details: the tension between softness and stone, the resilience of the small plants, the harmony in the repetition. It’s a quiet moment pulled from a much grander scene—a reminder that sometimes the most powerful stories are found in the margins. -
![Crystal-clear water tumbles over moss-covered rocks in a serene mountain stream in the North Georgia mountains, creating a soothing cascade framed by lush greenery.]()
"Waterworks 7"
Dahlonega, GA 2017I made this image during a quiet moment in the Blue Ridge Mountains near Dahlonega, Georgia. What caught my eye was the way the stream split and flowed around the rocks—each channel finding its own path with effortless grace. The contrast between the earthy reds of the stone, the lush green moss, and the silky motion of the water felt like nature composing its own visual symphony. I used a longer exposure to soften the flow and draw out that sense of calm. For me, this image is about stillness within motion—a moment of quiet clarity tucked into the heart of the Blue Ridge. -
![A weathered bridge spans calm, shallow waters in Little River Canyon National Park, Alabama, its rust-streaked supports and crumbling concrete reflected in the rocky pool below, surrounded by lush forest.]()
"Rust and Reflection"
Little River Canyon N.P., AL 2017I made this image on a quiet day exploring backroads in the southern Appalachians. This old bridge—weathered, rust-streaked, and partially crumbling—stood with a kind of reluctant dignity over the shallow creek below. What caught my attention wasn’t just the structure itself, but its reflection in the still water, mirroring every scar and stain. There’s something poetic about places like this—how time and nature slowly reclaim what was once built to last. I was drawn to the tension between decay and endurance, and how beauty often shows up in the places we overlook. This image is a study in contrast: ruin and resilience, steel and stone, shadow and light. -
![A row of almost bare autumn trees stands along a gentle ridge beneath a moody sky in Franklin, TN, their fading leaves glowing softly above the open green field in the calm of twilight.]()
"The Gathering"
Franklin, TN, 2015I made this image on a quiet drive through the countryside, when a break in the clouds cast a soft, diffused light across this open field. What stopped me was the line of trees standing together on the rise—some bare, some still holding onto the last leaves of fall. They felt like a gathering of individuals, each at a different stage of letting go. The scene carried a quiet tension, a sense of waiting, or maybe remembering. I was drawn to the simplicity and balance, the space between the trees and the weight of the sky above. It felt like a moment suspended in time—honest, understated, and full of presence. -
![A lone tree stands silhouetted against a fading twilight sky, where deep purples and soft reds blend into the horizon, creating a peaceful and contemplative mood in this quiet, open landscape.]()
"Solitary Twilight 7"
West Tennessee, 2017I came across this lone tree just as the last light of day was fading, and everything about the scene felt still and stripped down to its essence. The silhouette stood quietly against a sky that shifted from deep violet to soft rose, like the final breath of daylight. I was drawn to the simplicity—the space, the solitude, the quiet tension between darkness and light. This image is less about the tree itself and more about the mood it held in that moment, suspended in twilight. For me, it’s a visual meditation on stillness, endings, and the beauty that lingers just before night fully arrives. -
![The Mittens and Merrick Butte glow beneath vibrant streaks of pink and orange clouds at sunset in Monument Valley, Utah, standing tall over the vast desert landscape in iconic, timeless beauty.]()
"Monument Valley Sunset"
Utah, 2015As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky above Monument Valley ignited in a symphony of warm hues. Pam and I were treated to this beautiful sunset panorama from the balcony of our room at The View Hotel (yes, that's really the name of the hotel.) From this perfect vantage point, the iconic buttes—West Mitten, East Mitten, and Merrick Butte—stood in silent grandeur, their rich red tones deepened by the fading light. It was one of those moments where time seemed to slow down, and the vast desert landscape became a canvas of color and stillness. I had to capture it. -
![A small homestead rests quietly on the vast desert floor near Monument Valley, Utah, dwarfed by towering red rock mesas and bathed in the soft light of dusk beneath a streaked sky.]()
"Homestead"
Utah, 2015
I was standing on the side of Highway 163 in Utah, the iconic stretch of blacktop that leads into Monument Valley, which became even more famous thanks to the movie 'Forrest Gump.' I was waiting for traffic to pass so I could set my tripod in the middle of the road to capture the perfect shot. As I glanced to my left, I was greeted by a breathtaking view of towering sandstone mesas and buttes. In the foreground, there was a small, isolated homestead. The contrast between the homestead and the massive rock formations, along with the stunning clouds and the beautiful afternoon light illuminating the textures and tones of the desert floor, inspired me to capture this image.
-
![Sunrise bathes the towering spires of Canyonlands National Park, Utah, in golden light, casting long shadows across the layered desert landscape and revealing the park’s dramatic red rock formations in breathtaking detail.]()
"Canyon Awakening"
Canyonlands N.P., Utah, 2015I made this image just after sunrise in Canyonlands National Park, standing at the edge of a cliff as the first light spilled across the desert. The sun hadn’t fully cleared the horizon, but it had already started to paint the rock formations in warm, golden tones. The spires in the foreground—sharp, weathered, and impossibly sculptural—glowed against the hazy layers beyond. What moved me most was the sense of depth and silence stretching into the distance. It felt ancient and eternal, like I was witnessing the desert slowly awaken from a thousand years of sleep. This image is about reverence—for light, for time, and for the raw, quiet power of the land. -
![The Green River winds through a maze of layered red rock canyons in Canyonlands National Park, Utah, as the soft twilight casts warm highlights and deep shadows across the rugged desert landscape.]()
"Canyon at Twilight"
Canyonlands N.P., Utah, 2015I made this image near twilight from one of Canyonlands’ high overlooks, watching as the day’s last light skimmed the mesas and carved deep shadows into the valleys below. The Green River curled through the vast expanse like a silver ribbon, the only moving element in a landscape that felt almost prehistoric. As the sun slipped behind the distant plateaus, the canyon walls glowed with burnt oranges and subtle purples, revealing layers of time etched into stone. In that hush between day and night, the sheer scale and stillness of the desert left me humbled. This photograph is my attempt to preserve that moment when the land itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for darkness to fall. -
![Silhouetted rock spires, known as totems, of Monument Valley, Utah, rise against a dramatic sunrise sky, their dark forms etched sharply against the warm golden and amber hues of dawn.]()
"Navajo Sunrise"
Monument Valley, Utah, 2015I made this image deep within the Navajo Nation, in a place you can only reach with a native guide. The journey there was unforgettable—part adventure, part reverence. We started our hike in total darkness, the kind that erases all sense of distance or direction. As we moved quietly through the sand and brush, the guide suddenly stopped, raised his hands, and with calm authority said, “Rattlesnake.” The way he said it—low, steady, almost sacred—froze me in place. It was a reminder that out here, we were guests, and the land had its own rhythm, its own rules.
By the time we reached this overlook, the first light of day had begun to rise. The sandstone formations were still holding onto the cool blues of dawn while the sky above them bloomed with soft pastels. After the tension and silence of the hike, the view felt even more profound. This image carries that whole experience for me—the mystery of the desert, the wisdom of those who know it best, and the quiet power of witnessing a new day from a place few ever reach.
-
![Backlit by the golden light of sunrise in Monument Valley, Utah, a fuzzy caterpillar clings to yellow wildflowers, its delicate hairs glowing softly against a vibrant backdrop of sunlit blooms.]()
"Gentle Glow"
Monument Valley, Utah, 2015This image was made just after sunrise on the same unforgettable morning I mentioned before—the one that started in the dark, guided by a Navajo elder, and briefly paused for a rattlesnake encounter. After that moment of tension and awareness, we continued on in silence, letting the landscape unfold with the growing light.
As the sun broke over the horizon, it cast a golden wash across the desert brush. I noticed this tiny, backlit caterpillar suspended on a single thread, glowing softly against a sea of yellow wildflowers. It felt like the quietest kind of miracle—fragile, fleeting, and completely unexpected. After the intensity of the hike and the stark beauty of the desert views, this small, intimate moment reminded me to keep noticing the gentle things too. This image is about lightness, wonder, and the grace of being exactly where you are.
-
![A soft morning mist weaves through a quiet forest of tall, lichen-covered trees, the fog partially veiling the golden yellow leaves of birch trees glowing in the background.]()
"Into the Mist"
East Tennessee, 2015The morning mist was doing its best to hide the last bits of fall color, but these yellow birch trees weren’t having it. Their golden leaves peered through the fog like lanterns in the quiet forest, putting up one last, bold display before winter took over. The soft light and swirling mist made everything even more beautiful, wrapping the scene in a dreamlike stillness that felt both fleeting and eternal. Moments like this are what continue to inspire my photography. -
![Golden autumn leaves arch over a gently flowing stream in the Smoky Mountains, where moss-covered rocks and soft mist create a serene, dreamlike scene.]()
"Smoky Mountain Stream 1"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2017It was another early morning hike in the Smokies when I stumbled upon this serene composition. The soft, diffused light filtering through the mist, the rich autumn palette, and the quiet stillness of the forest stopped me in my tracks. What began as a vigorous walk quickly turned into a moment of stillness and reflection. Surrounded by nature’s quiet beauty, I lingered, taking it all in before carefully setting up my gear to capture the scene. This image is the result of that pause—a moment of peace preserved through the lens. -
![A brilliant tapestry of red, orange, and gold autumn leaves fills the forest in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, as tall trees stand among the vibrant glow of peak fall color.]()
"Splendor of Fall 7"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2017I made this image on a crisp fall morning when the forest seemed to be burning with color. Everywhere I looked, the trees were alive with gold, amber, and red—an overwhelming display of fall's full splendor. What I loved most was the layered density of it all: trunks rising like pillars through a canopy of fire, with evergreen undergrowth adding a quiet counterpoint below. It felt immersive, almost painterly, and I wanted to create a photograph that would honor that richness—not just in color, but in the feeling of being completely surrounded by the season. -
![]()
"Turning"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2015
While hiking through the Smokies, I paused in this quiet stretch of forest where the colors seemed to hum in low, glowing tones. The overlapping layers of yellow, orange, and fading green felt like the trees were mid-sentence—caught in the act of turning. I was drawn to the way the light sifted softly through the canopy, giving the scene a kind of hushed intimacy. This image is my attempt to hold that fleeting transition, where change isn’t sudden, but slow and beautiful.
-
![A dense grove of aspens in the La Sal Mountains in Moab Utah glows with vibrant yellow foliage, their white trunks creating a striking contrast against the golden canopy of autumn.]()
"Aspen Dream 2"
Utah, 2015
Quaking aspens have always fascinated me—their leaves shimmer and dance with the lightest breeze, giving them their name. But what’s even more remarkable is that an entire grove can be a single living organism, connected by an underground root system. The Pando grove near Moab is one of the largest and oldest living things on Earth, and it's part of what first drew me to this landscape.
If you've spent any time with my work, you know how much I’m drawn to trees. There's a quiet poetry in their form, resilience, and rhythm—and aspens, with their luminous bark and fluttering golden leaves, are among my favorites. I made this image in the La Sal Mountains outside Moab, just as the trees reached their autumn peak. The light, the color, and the stillness of that morning came together in a way that felt like standing inside a living flame.
-
![]()
"The Gesture"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2015
I came across this tree deep in the Smokies, glowing like a beacon in the understory. The twisted trunk, reaching into a canopy of yellow, felt almost like a gesture—expressive, weathered, full of character. I was drawn not just to the color, but to the shape, the way the branches moved through space like a line drawn with intention. I wanted to preserve that feeling—the vibrant chaos of fall held together by the quiet grace of structure. This image is less about the tree itself, and more about the moment it becomes something more: a mark, a memory, a flicker of movement in the woods.
-
![Abstract sugar maples in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in peak fall color.]()
"Golden"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2015
I was drawn to the way the golden maple leaves seemed to float in front of the dark trunks, like flecks of light suspended in shadow. This image is less about a specific place and more about the rhythm and repetition I saw in that moment—how the forest transformed into an abstract tapestry of color and contrast. It became more about form than forest, a composition where structure and pattern took precedence over location. I wanted to capture the feeling of being enveloped by autumn, where the boundary between the tangible and the poetic begins to blur.
-
![Golden poplar leaves shimmer against dark tree trunks in this abstract photo from Great Smoky Mountains National Park, where light and shadow dance through the forest in a vivid display of autumn's glow.]()
"Silent Reckoning"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2015
This image is my attempt to move beyond a literal representation of the forest and into something more felt than seen. These sugar maples were at their peak, glowing with golden light, but what stayed with me wasn’t just the color—it was the atmosphere. The way the trunks stood in near darkness while the leaves shimmered like echoes of something half-remembered. I used motion and selective focus to create a softer, more abstract impression. For me, this photograph became a meditation on change, memory, and the quiet reckoning that comes with the passing of seasons. -
![An abstract photo of golden poplar trees in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, with intentional blur creating a painterly effect that evokes the warmth and motion of autumn light filtering through the forest.]()
"The Light Between"
Great Smoky Mountains N.P., 2016This image an attempt to translate feeling into form. I used intentional camera movement to let the forest blur into something more abstract—less about the trees themselves and more about the sensation of being among them. The golden sugar maples were glowing at their peak, and as I moved the camera, the light stretched into vertical ribbons that reminded me of how fleeting and fluid autumn really is. What emerged feels like a memory more than a moment—like being wrapped in a curtain of light, suspended between what’s fading and what’s just out of reach. -
![An abstract image of trees near Fontana Lake, NC, captured with intentional camera movement to create vertical streaks of green, gold, and orange that evoke the vibrant transition of seasons in an Appalachian forest.]()
"Interim"
Fontana Lake, NC , 2015This image is my interpretation of the quiet in-between—those fleeting days when summer hasn't quite let go, and autumn is just beginning to take hold. I used intentional camera movement to blur the scene into bands of green, gold, and rust, allowing color and motion to take the lead over form. Rather than photograph individual trees, I wanted to capture the sensation of walking through a forest in transition. Everything felt fluid, alive, and momentarily suspended. This image is about change—not just in the landscape, but in ourselves as we move through our own seasons. -
![A rusted, antique Chevrolet truck sits partially sunken into the forest floor, covered in pine needles and organic debris. A sapling grows beside the front fender, while filtered sunlight reveals textures of oxidized metal, cracked paint, and encroach]()
"Buried Bowtie"
White, GA 2014
This old Chevrolet felt more like a relic than a vehicle, its curves half-swallowed by pine needles and soil. Light filtered through the trees above, casting dappled shadows across the hood like memory itself. I was struck by the resilience of the form—how even in surrender to time and earth, the body of this machine retained its dignity. And that single green sapling pushing up beside the fender? A quiet metaphor for renewal.
-
![]()
"Fracture"
White, GA, 2014
While wandering through the rusted remains of Old Car City, I came across this shattered window—its fractured geometry catching the light like stained glass in an abandoned cathedral. I was drawn to the contrast between the sharp violence of the broken glass and the soft decay settling into the car’s interior. For a moment, the vehicle felt less like a relic and more like a witness—holding the memory of motion, now stilled and dissolving. This image became a meditation on what’s left behind, and how beauty sometimes emerges not despite ruin, but because of it.
-
![]()
"Ford Tough"
White, GA 2014
I didn’t plan to stop here, but this old Ford badge demanded a second look. Still clinging to a hood mottled with rust, moss, and decades of wear, it stood its ground like it had something to prove. The badge wasn’t shiny anymore, but it didn’t need to be—it had earned its grit. The textures, the stubbornness, the way the light hit that peeling paint—it all felt like a reminder that toughness isn’t about looking new. It’s about lasting.
-
![]()
"Continental Pines"
White, GA 2014
While walking through Old Car City in White, Georgia, I came across the familiar curve of the trunk on this Lincoln Continental buried in a bed of pine needles. Time had softened its form—faded paint, scattered letters, and rust blending seamlessly into the forest floor. What struck me most wasn’t just the decay, but the reverence of it. The way light filtered through the trees felt like a quiet benediction. In that moment, this wasn't just a car—it was a memory being slowly absorbed back into the earth. I made this photograph to honor that quiet return.
-
![A close-up of a weathered Cadillac emblem at Old Car City in Georgia, surrounded by rust, moss, and peeling paint—nature reclaiming a once-proud symbol of luxury.]()
"Patina "
White, GA, 2014There’s something regal about a Cadillac emblem, even when it’s rusted and surrounded by moss. I found this detail tucked away in a forgotten corner of Old Car City, and I knew I had to isolate it. The badge felt like a crown amid decay—a symbol of luxury transformed by age and environment. It reminded me that elegance doesn’t have to fade; it just changes form. -
![Close-up of a weathered Ford Fairlane at Old Car City in Georgia, showcasing rust, moss, and patina textures contrasted by the bold lines of classic chrome trim and emblem.]()
"Legacy"
White, GA, 2014I've always been drawn to the sculptural details of classic cars, and this weathered Ford Fairlane was no exception. The paint had faded into a two-tone of oxidized red and mossy green, and the chrome trim still held a quiet elegance. There was something about the contrast—between rust and shine, decay and design—that felt timeless. Standing before it, I saw more than a car; I saw history slowly being reclaimed by nature. -
![]()
"Fairlane"
White, GA 2014
Time hasn’t been gentle with this old Fairlane, but that’s exactly what drew me in. The texture of the rust, the cracked enamel of the emblem, the softened edges of chrome—all speak to a different kind of endurance. I framed this shot to celebrate what remains, not what’s lost. It's about the beauty that surfaces when polish gives way to patina.
-
![]()
"Muscle Memory"
White, GA 2014
There’s something about the SS badge that still makes my heart race. I came across this weathered Super Sport emblem deep in the back lot at Old Car City, and it stopped me in my tracks. As a teenager, I owned a 1969 Chevelle 396 SS—it was loud, fast, and everything I thought freedom felt like at the time.
Seeing this one now, with its chrome dulled and its paint softened by time and moss, stirred something familiar. I wanted to photograph not just the car, but the memory it held—the way the past lingers in surface textures, in faded lettering, in the quiet hum of nostalgia. This image is less about horsepower and more about presence. What’s left when the speed is gone? Sometimes, beauty. Sometimes, silence.
-
![]()
"Rustbelt Royalty"
White, GA, 2014
This Cadillac crest, embedded in rust and rain-streaked paint, felt like a crown slowly sinking into the earth. I framed it tightly, wanting to let the textures and angles speak for themselves—a once-majestic symbol now beautifully broken down by time and elements.
-
![]()
"Fleetwood"
White, GA 2014
There was a time when the name Fleetwood meant luxury, status, the soft hush of whitewall tires on a clean boulevard. I found this one, decades past its prime, its scripted badge still holding a certain dignity despite the corrosion. The rust had worked its way in like memory—layered, unhurried, impossible to stop. I was drawn to the shape of the emblem, that confident V now shadowed by time and sunlight. It felt like photographing a monument—one that marked not just a car, but an era fading into myth.
-
![ChatGPT said:
A weathered red Plymouth V8 grille at Old Car City in Georgia, its chrome details dulled by time and streaked with moss and rust, capturing the quiet dignity of an American classic lost to the elements.]()
"American Muscle"
White, GA, 2014I loved the layers of texture in this shot—the worn red paint, the crusted chrome, the soft green moss creeping in around the edges. The Plymouth V8 emblem still announced itself proudly, despite the years. It was like finding a voice in the middle of silence, a reminder that even in stillness and rust, these old machines still speak.
