About this place

My love letter to the forest

To the forest,

Most people never get to see you like this. Your animals hide, coming out when they feel safe, or when they're hunting. Some are just visitors, passing through. Others walk your roads like they live here, like Phil, or the bobcat who stops to mark his spot and keeps on walking. They all have their stories, and once in a while you let me see a part of them.

Some days that means sorting through hundreds of images. Some days, thousands. I keep the cameras on high sensitivity so I don't miss anything, which means I also get every gust of wind moving your branches. And then, once in a while, something walks into the frame that makes all of it worth it.

You started as something I needed for myself. On the hard days, I'd come back to you, just to see what had passed through. Knowing a cougar had crossed your path, that the fawns were still out there, that you just kept going, helped more than I expected. Sharing you felt like a big step. I'm glad I did.

You know my husband. He's the one climbing your trees to hang the cameras where I can't reach, and making sure I'm safely armed when we check on the remote ones. Through the hard days, he never once asked why I needed you. He just made room for it, and for me.

Everything I share comes from your twenty acres. The timestamps are real. The temperature is real. The moon phase is real. Your animals live here, and none of them know we're watching.

Thank you for every moment you've let me see. It's not just the photograph. It's the privilege of having seen it.

— Kitty