My new photographs chronicle my move off-grid in the Ortiz Mountains, where I am visited each dawn by 20 to 60 ravens and simultaneously a family of coyotes. I've assembled several dozen portraits of these creatures along with the summer night-blooming flowers of Datura and barrel cacti, shot in moon- and candle-illumination; the flowers are wilted by mid-morning.

 

It is impossible not to feel the deep and complex spiritual presence in this ancient land. At night the coyotes sing, yip, and warble, and at dawn the first light turns the earth and underbrush the color of honey, or more correctly the color of coyotes’ eyes. Then the ravens arrive, a raucous circus, as the night’s exotic blossoms desiccate in daylight. And magic is afoot...