birch

I began photographing this birch tree in April 2023, the first spring I lived in Northampton. Like many people, I have been drawn to birch trees since I was a child, writing notes on their paper and affixing the bark to various objects.

I have been photographing this tree now for four years. I did not have a plan in mind, I felt a call. As I gather the photos together, I am struck by the absurdity of dividing a year into four. I understand the planetary movement through solstice and equinox, yet there are entire worlds of growth within each three month period. And this is one tree in one place in the world.

Getting to know this tree has me thinking about growth. There are seasons where change is evident and obvious like the budding, stretching up of spring and the shedding release of fall. There are seasons where change is not so obvious — the full bloom of summer and the bare quiet of winter. We, too, are made of these seasons.

I am very aware of the comings and goings of things: of seasons, relationships, the health of our bodies. To me, the process of change is mystical and unfathomable. When I really stop to consider everything that had to happen to lead to this moment I am blown away. Witnessing a handful of these infinite goings-on is my way of appreciating the sacredness of getting to be here on the planet.