Over the past 15 years I have been on a journey back to nature after an extended estrangement. Having grown up quite literally on my own in the woods of Great Lakes region, I saw my time outdoors seemingly shrinking more with every passing year. Through an odd bit of luck and some old-fashioned determination I was able to correct course. I have been collecting images and memories of our wild world and its inhabitants at every opportunity ever since.

Nature is something to be experienced, first-hand and with at least one foot in the creek (or prairie, or swamp, you get the idea). My journeys have taken me on solo trips across North America, from the desert heat of places like the the Great Basin and Death Valley to frozen mountains over 14,000 feet and so many places in between. At some point I decided to pick up a camera, to share some of these experiences, at least in some limited way, with those who could not make the journey. Results have improved, but photography is still a journey for me and, like a journey through nature itself, its one that will never end. Documenting the beauty that is all around, whether on the loneliest mountain ridge of a backcountry outpost, or in one of the many thousands of parks that dot suburbia, can spark an appreciation for and, more importantly, an urge to learn about and protect our fragile biosphere.

If we truly appreciate the great garden that we have been given, we will be spurred to preserve it and protect it for the generations to come. Appreciation is not enough, however, if we hope to keep the blessings we have. That is why much of this site is dedicated to discussing conservation and restoration efforts. There is much work ahead for humanity to ensure that we do not leave a barren ash heap as our legacy on this planet. We are witnessing another Great Extinction event even as I type these words. While each of us may not be able to tackle such a momentous problem as we might wish, like some environmental super hero with the power to reverse ecological degradation with a few moments of intense individual heroism, we each can play a role.

We live in an age of world travel and its easy to get caught up in the glamor of trying to save the clouded leopards of the Amazon or rhinos on the Serengeti. But for most of us, those types of opportunities and experiences are out of our reach unless you count watching a Nat Geo documentary or donating to associated causes. Donating to properly organized and directed organizations can do a lot of good, but here I try to explore mostly the challenges that are close to home, which for me is United States Mid-Atlantic Coast and the Chesapeake Estuary in particular.