This piece is about death, how nature loves to decay, to destroy and in that she flourishes and is reborn. Humans reflect nature, we too die to just remember we’re alive. This scene is of a magical valley in the far northwest corner of Montana. When I laid my morning eyes upon these mountains after sleeping under the October sky a few miles north, reverence so deep it rattled me, snaked through my veins.
I feel whoever this piece calls to, who it belongs to, sees natures cyclical essence with a keen eye.
This piece is about death, how nature loves to decay, to destroy and in that she flourishes and is reborn. Humans reflect nature, we too die to just remember we’re alive. This scene is of a magical valley in the far northwest corner of Montana. When I laid my morning eyes upon these mountains after sleeping under the October sky a few miles north, reverence so deep it rattled me, snaked through my veins.
I feel whoever this piece calls to, who it belongs to, sees natures cyclical essence with a keen eye.