By Katherine Johnson
February 12, 2018
In the spring of 2016 I concluded that my life in Seattle was permanently over, in part because I could not longer afford the financial costs of living there, but more to point, that I was no no longer willing to pay the price to live in a city whose culture I barely recognized and no longer welcomed me.
Because of this I spent that spring and summer living a nomadic life traveling to places around the Pacific Northwest searching for that one place that felt like it could be home. Then it was fall, then it was winter and my found that my travels had stopped being a search for home. Instead, I was traveling through my lifetime, my nooks and crannies, my memories, with the sole purpose of saying goodbye.
On Thanksgiving morning I found myself traveling by intuition somewhere along the Yakima River, between Ellensburg and Cle Elum, when I concluded that my time in the Pacific Northwest was over that I would leave for New Mexico in a few days to look for home.
It was there that I stopped and photographed these naked trees that stood there silent waiting for spring. I felt a kinship with them and to honor them I resolved that this would be my last photograph of that land which I loved with my entire soul, that land, those nooks and crannies, where, over a lifetime, I celebrated great joy and found refuge when in despair.
Copyright 2018 By Katherine Johnson – All Rights Reserved