I’ve always felt a deep connection to nature, finding solitude and the ability to collect myself in the woods. Walking deep into a thick forest, wading in cool running water of mountain streams, or squatted on a remote beach, the natural world envelops me with a sense of peace and confidence. Richard Louv describes this phenomenon in The Nature Principle as fulfilling our deficit of nature, our intense and physical need for connection to the earth. Given that we cannot spend every waking moment immersed in the natural world, observing the lessons nature has to teach us, the question becomes, how do we curtail our "nature deficit" in a technology-rich, work-driven world?

Even those that do manage to break away from the day-to-day still feel the pull of the wild. Where mountains once were, named after a chapter in Louv's book, is my response to consoling my nature deficit when nature isn't a possibility, or gone altogether. The images come from endless hours of watching nature documentaries, attempting to consume nature in an indirect way, finding some semblance of the emotional recharge I receive from being in the wild. More than a simple snapshot, it’s about that extended moment of stillness. It’s my attempt to still feel connected to the thing that gives me breath and life.