“Anew” represents loss, rebirth, and a yet-uncertain potential. Death of the old allows for the new to thrive, and yet the old stands defiant, alternately beautiful and tragic in its stubbornness.

This image was taken on an extended backpacking trip deep inside the Craters of the Moon National Monument—an incredible and paradoxical place. It’s an area both remote and largely devoid of recognizable life, yet it remains remarkably loud given the near-constant high winds which whip across the barren surface. With little for shade, the sun bears down with a particular fervor, yet the wind opposes that blistering radiant with an equally unrelenting blast of mountain air, often cold. Further, given its relative absence of human presence and clear view of the horizon, Craters of the Moon is recognized as an International Dark-Sky Place, yet any human activity for miles around is glaringly noticeable as a result. On designating the area a National Monument in 1924, President Coolidge remarked it was “weird and scenic,” a comment I both concur with and regard as high praise.