About this time last year, on a day with winds of 50 mph, I came home from work to see this limb of the desert willow split so badly that I didn't think it was salvageable.
But look: one year and some wire tourniquets, and the tree survives.
One of my earliest memories is of my parents staying up late to process slides in the kitchen. I can still remember the first photograph I took - of a rock, with a mountain in the background. In college, I was almost positive I was going to be the next Ansel Adams.
All of which has led me here.
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