The start of my journey at Yosemite Valley’s Happy Isles “Looks like you’ve got a storm to outrun,” said the weathered old man with his wife to me as I made my way out of Devil’s Postpile National Monument around 3:30pm. As I looked up, I saw I was just at the edge of the storm as the sun peaked through the clouds towards the clear blue skies ahead. I could hear the thunder behind me every so often breaking the rhythm of my hurried footsteps and labored breathing. I felt alive, in tune with...

This road leads from Ocean through City and on across Deserts bequeathed by Tarantulas to Mormons Flat oven expanses Lacking even cacti...

I long to catch a moment— an earthy, fleshy slice of life and hug it hard until its essence bursts and bathes me. But my mind is always...