I grew up in the desert of Eastern Idaho, where sagebrush stretched for miles and snow-capped mountains stood like quiet guardians. In spring, cottonwood trees filled the air with white, drifting seeds—like echoes of winter. Being outside always felt like coming home. It brought joy to my soul.

As I got older, the outdoors became even more essential. I fished with Grandpa, hiked winding trails, and camped under endless skies. Summers took me to Swan Valley and Salmon, Idaho, and all the way to Wasilla, Alaska. Nature became my refuge, a place where I felt whole. Over time, I came to understand just how deeply my mental health depended on it.

And I also began to see how fragile the natural world truly is. Its beauty and stillness only endure if we choose to protect and cherish them.

Photography became my outlet—a way to hold on to the moments that ground me, calm me, and fill me with peace. Through the lens, I capture eternity. My photographs remind me that no matter where I am, I can return to joy, serenity, and stillness.

I share them in hopes that others can feel the same.

We live in a world that is fast, demanding, and often overwhelming. But it's also breathtaking. They say in nature, where there is poison, the remedy is never far away. These photographs are my remedy. Perhaps they can be yours, too.

Today, I spend my days in Humboldt County, California, seeking out the quiet majesty of the Redwoods as often as I can. In first grade, I remember drawing a picture of the place I wanted to live when I grew up. It was an ocean pressed against a mountain. Living in Idaho, I had no idea such a place existed. Somehow though, I found it, topped off with towering redwoods. It feels like that childhood dream came to life, and now I get to share its stillness, beauty, and quiet wonder through my work.