WHAT THE LAND REMEMBERS

I keep returning to the same stretch of the Hillsborough River because it never stays still for long.

When I’m there, I think about the generations that passed through this place before me.

In rainy summers, parts of it are completely submerged when the river floods. At other times it opens up again. Light shifts. The air changes. What felt accessible one day can feel closed the next.

The longer I stay with it, the less interested I am in describing it clearly. What draws me is the sense that it holds more than it gives back at once.

Nothing in the landscape points directly to the past, but over time it begins to suggest it. That is enough.

This work is still evolving.