A place revisited. Seasons turning. Years passing. The same landscape seen again and again, a place so familiar yet never quite the same.
I have driven this road for years. Long before photography, I knew the turns, the marsh, the open water, and the way the sky stretches wide over it all. When photography took hold, Cedar Run Dock Road became the place I returned to most.
I came back in winter when ice locked the marsh tight. I came back through the long brown months before summer made green. I came for storms, sunsets, still water, hard wind, and ordinary evenings when nothing seemed likely to happen until a riot of fireflies erupted, neon signal fires across the marsh. The road stayed put. Everything around it changed.
Over time, the photographs changed too. So did I. What began as a chill cruise with friends to an already familiar place became something else: a record of seasons, weather, repetition, and years spent paying attention.
This is a song of seasons
SEASON I
Winter locked in ice



SEASON II
Spring and the in between


“The road stayed put. Everything around it changed.”

SEASON III
Oh that newborn marsh summer green




human trace

The marsh is not untouched. We cut roads through it, line them with steel, string wires overhead, and still have our trash wind up everywhere.
SEASON IV
Autumn and the turning




Return
There and back again

CODA
I keep coming back to this road. Seasons turn, calendars flip, light shifts, and the years pile up behind me. I am neither the same person nor the same photographer who arrived here before. And yet, somehow, Cedar Run keeps showing me who I am and where I have been. The one road that doesn’t need to take me anywhere.
