The landscape has never been a static thing for me. It twists and turns, it unforgivingly dives into seemingly deserted canyons with their guarded secrets and valleys, or rises sweeping upward past the eye-line in an arc which hangs above one's head. It moves and breathes the way animals do, merely doing so in a slower time-frame. It requires something of us, asking us to understand what is happening before us. We think of the landscape as unwavering, and often subconsciously ignore the movement of time or the marks of alteration.