Disaster danced on the edge of madness, until it took to its course, falling into a depth of distance and despair. We could not restore a sense of measure, as the lines faded from our frames. Stories of whispering pines and solitary stones, stories of coursing rivers and stilled mountains. Existence is co-dependent on the architecture of its place. Bound by our senses, grounded by the Earth as we float effortlessly in Heavens bounty. We must go back, retrace our path, leave a message for those that would follow. To see the plentiful abundance of sharing this most sacred view. To stand on the edge of madness and walk back to our center.

-Josh Fleming

Image by: Oystein Sture Aspelund


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