Forests are in a continuous, continual and simultaneous dynamic state of growth, death and decay. We are aware of a change of season represented by ubiquitous photos of brightly colored leaves – taken both by professionals and by tourists flocking to the most colorful sites of fall foliage. In Northern New Mexico, the aspens in our mountains provide the greatest measure of this annual experience, even though other species not as prominent add their colors to the aspen gold of our mountainsides. These delightful visual experiences are but part of the annual death in our forests – followed by browning and decay on the forest floor and in our back yards (if we decline to rake). Less obvious, non-seasonal, unpredictable and in general not noticed and overlooked is the growth, death and decay of the trees themselves – in the last stage returning nutrients and nourishment to the forest floor for use by successor generations.

Trees in the process of falling, often propped against their healthy neighbors have been pictured by professional photographers to stunning effect, but in general overlooked by the usual hiker hurrying to the end of the trail, unless arranged to form teepees for snow roofs during the winter months – shelters presumably for those traveling on snow shoes or cross country skis who seek a short respite from their labors. This project is focused on what I consider to be one of the most sensual expression of organic forms in the millennial cycle of the forests. The forest floor contains many forms to fascinate and captivate the careful observer: The ground covering plants, the flowering plants, mosses and worts. The last two can often be found on the upended roots of their largest neighbors in a state of decay. The snake-like foundation that once anchored the trees becomes often an abstract metaphor for what has been and what is to become. My images are intended to bring into focus the terminus and simultaneous regeneration of the largest vegetable occupants of the mountains that surround us.