Photography taught me to notice small, easily overlooked details—and in that practice of noticing, I began to glimpse the presence behind it all.

It had been crushed by a closing door some time ago. Now it was stuck to the inside of the door frame with its bright red belly facing up, as if it were sunning itself.

It’s a pattern easily found in nature, in rippled water and sliced tree trunks.

I visited Springville marsh boardwalk recently, pausing along the way to photograph dried leaves that still clung to their branches like ghosts haunting their houses.

I swiftly merged onto the highway like a blood cell exiting a vein for an artery.

The consumption habits of these larvae are comparable to our own.

Had it not been preserved and presented to the viewer as a single static image, the moment might have been overlooked.

The new natural.