Over the last few days, I have been contemplating some upcoming trips, and after a friend gave me some advice on a location, I pulled out a map to get my bearings; my memory of this particular area just wasn’t cutting it. I have always liked maps: they tell a story, whether in a particular place name, in my memory of driving through a small town, or of a place I dream to visit. When I was in college, before graduating to more sophisticated wall decor, it was not uncommon for me to put a map on my wall.
As I looked through my map file the other day, a flood of memories came back to me as I recalled roads I have driven, places I have seen, adventures I have had. There’s something more tangible than paper here: these maps of the American West are the landscape of who I am.
The West has shown me what a windchill of -60°F feels like, and that those are perfect days to stay indoors. I know that the radiating heat of 120°F in the Mojave Desert might seem uninviting, but that you can still find active wildlife. My daydreams often drift to lonesome highways, and I find myself craving the feeling (and aroma) of being chest-deep in sagebrush at least every few months. Dusty dirt roads were a staple of my childhood; I’ve had friends who give directions to their houses using landmarks and the words, “bear left at the Y then turn left after the cattle guard.” This isn’t uncommon in the West.
Issues here, whether environmental or social, are hardly ever simple. My approach to many of them is somewhat moderate. I believe in wisely managing some of our public lands for more than one use. The livelihood of many residents here relies on that principle–they count on our natural resources to put food on the table for their families. That said, I watch news stories about things like coal mining, grazing, and dammed rivers closely. As insignificant as some of them might seem, these issues ultimately affect every resident of the West.
I admire the people here who are extraordinarily hard-working; many of them know nothing else. My grandmother is 81 years old and still works hard at least 4 days a week.
At the end of the day, politics do not matter as much as basic respect for your neighbor. I lived in Laramie, Wyoming through many of the events surrounding Matthew Shepard, a gay University of Wyoming student who was killed as a result of what is essentially a hate crime. His murder showed that the rot of hatred and ignorance is indeed alive in the West, but it also brought out the best in people. A few months after things settled down, I was loading my groceries into my car, and I looked at the bumper of a beat up old ranch truck parked next to me. On the bumper was a blue sticker with a yellow, “=”; the sign of equality. Everyone in Wyoming, from farmers and ranchers to liberal progressives, came together in support of common, simple ideals. Stereotypes do not hold much water here; what matters most is your character.
My website will tell you I am a photographer. Indeed, I am. However, I am more than that. I am a citizen of the West. I was born here, have lived here my entire life, and likely will die here. I’m proud of the people who surround me, for their hard work, their vision, their character; all of these ideals are born from the landscape we live in. They are as much a part of the West as the iconic landscapes we all chase with our cameras.
High Plains Storm, December 2003
Great thoughts Greg — your connection to place, the ‘west’, as opposed to a specific location really shines through. I feel the same way. That’s why in most places my location reads the american west rather than simply Montana or California. I hope you follow up on this idea occasionally. To me it’s a very profound and important line of thought.
That said, this photo really conveys the spirit of why the both of us feel that way. Beautifully done…
Thanks, PJ. I thought this post might resonate with you. I’ll definitely follow up on this idea from time to time; looking through my maps, and writing this post has been really fun for me. Its a good reminder that there’s a lot more to each of us than we might think.
Greg, Nice post. I share your thoughts and feelings about the west but they also extend past political borders into Canada and beyond.
Thanks, Alan, I appreciate it. I can definitely see how this sort of sentiment would extend just about anywhere your memories lead you…
Hi Greg, this is a beautifully written piece. For most of my life I was a Texan and part of me still is. But I do enjoy living where I do now. 🙂
Sharon
Thank you Sharon. I appreciate it. Its good to know you still carry your roots around with you, no matter where you’re at. On the flipside of that, its good you have learned to put new roots where you’re at now…it looks like a place almost anyone could get used to. 🙂
Beautifully written and sensitive piece, Greg. Like you, I am of and from the West. I spent six miserable years living in the southeast and it was long enough to know that I will forever call the West my home. I love the extremes, the topography, the weather, the wildlife and the people. Thanks for reminding me just how lucky I am to live where I do.
Thanks, Bret. You’re right in that there’s just something about the west that draws us in…it isn’t for everyone, with its weather, harshness, and extremes, but it is definitely home to a lot of people…
Greg, thanks for this. It’s fantastic and resonant for anyone with a deep appreciation for nature and community, too.
“I have always liked maps: they tell a story, whether in a particular place name, in my memory of driving through a small town, or of a place I dream to visit.” — my favorite line…
Thanks, Wesley! I appreciate it. I went over to your blog, and definitely take this as a compliment, coming from you. Great work you’re producing over there–creative imagery, and heartfelt writing.
Wonderful Greg, and that sense of place you feel is a driving force uniting you, with your landscape and your images. Your connection and sense of who you are defines who you are.
Having lived most of the last decade in China & Tibet, away from my homeland, I feel it is me who has had to adapt, a fish out of water in many ways. Always feeling like an outsider in a foreign land, regardless of the amount of time you spend there, or how deeply you immerse yourself in the culture.
Ly love for adopted landscapes still allows me to create images that resonate with that place, but I believe when I move back to Scotland this year, that the power and connectivity you feel for the west, will flow through my veins as a tramp the Highlands of Scotland, the blood of my people engrained in the rocks I photograph.
Thanks for this really thoughtful and personal comment, Alister. I definitely agree that an adopted landscape can still result in a profound sense of place, but for my part, the west is all I’ve ever known. I’m a poorly-traveled person, and have only been east of the Mississippi a few times.
Maybe 2012 is the year to change that!
Great piece of writing Greg. I think many of us have that feel for our home soil. For me it is New England and, although I would love to see more of the world, my sense of place here would always draw me back and is why I have not traveled all that much. Your love of the West is certainly creating the desire to visit in me.
I think your words about the character of the people of the West is mostly true for all people. There are pockets where being different meets with scorn and hard-hardheartedness, but I believe there is good in most folks. Unfortunately, it often takes a tragedy to make that more apparent.
Thanks for the comment, Steve! See my comment to Ali above about not traveling much.
Still looking forward to hopefully meeting you in 2013–you definitely need to get out here!
Its important that we remember the Mid West is part of the West. With photographs like this one of yours, you don’t need any of the icons. I love the colors and the unusual sky.
Thanks, David! I do agree that we don’t need icons to feel connected to the west, or any place for that matter.
It also reminds me a bit of your photograph of the Santa Rosa Plateau in California, which again is refreshingly different fare from what we see everywhere and different than what we think of as photography of the West.
Nicely written piece Greg. It is quite interesting to think about how the landscape, environment, our own geography becomes ingrained a bit into our souls.
Beautiful photo, the harmonious colors seem very symbiotic with the words you have written.
Thanks, Mark, I appreciate it Indeed its true, all of these things become part of our own souls’ geography.
Thanks for the kind words on the image too…it remains one of my favorites…
As someone who lives in Laramie, these words ring home for me. You are right about Wyoming being the most concerned about character over stereotypes… that is why I love it here!
Thanks, Allison! Yes, Laramie is a great community to live in, and you said it really well about the people of Wyoming…character over stereotypes…I couldn’t agree more!