I live in a 15-acre woodlot in an area of Ohio called the Great Black Swamp. I walk the property every day and I am struck by the clash between the speed of the external digital world, and my sanctuary-bubble where the slow and steady reclamation of human-abandoned fields by the natural world continues on relentlessly. Virginia creeper, ash saplings and thistle repopulate lawns wrenched from the rich black soil. Any tiny space that is left “unimproved” by weed killer or asphalt becomes a complex and layered miniature biome for mosses and insects. Rather than duplicate what I see, I strive to create an impression of what I experience during my time in nature.