Rose Waterhause:
P H O T O G R A P H E R
It's so easy for us all to forget, to lose the world we all came from. That world outside of garish commercial strips and beige asphalt jungles, where routine and empty goals keep us numb to the vibrance offered by the real world.
What a gift it is to find that the world can always feel new, as it does to a child. I grew up in the Cochise Stronghold, in the desert of southern Arizona, where coarse mountains and forests still remained largely untouched. And whenever we went to visit our family in Minnesota, the rolling hills of trees and farmland provided an equally beautiful contrast. I've been fortunate enough to rediscover the wonder and awe of those times. Nature is a gift, one for which I'm now so grateful that it stops me in my tracks every day. Every year I tour more of the United States and find something new, like a popping combination of flowers rippling through the backwoods of Pennsylvania, or the gentle wildness of ponies on Chincoteague Island, off the coast of Virginia. I can lose myself in the whistling snow of the Rockies, feel all my senses align as the vastness of the Columbia River Gorge practically pulls me into the sky.
I feel there are no limits to this world, only limits in how much we see in it. Every detail, every angle, is a new experience, from the sun taking command of the sky as it awakens from its slumber behind the plains, to a mother swan tutoring cygnets, to a diamond droplet of dew clinging to the crested edge of an acorn cupule. It's all too incredible to not share. Please, come and remember with me. I hope you'll enjoy the view through my lens.