The bristlecone forest is one of those solemn, magical places left on Earth. Situated between 10,000 to 12,000 feet elevation in the White Mountains of Inyo National Forest, CA, lies one of the last significant stretches of the world’s most ancient single living organisms.
These incredible trees—some determined to be 5,000 years old—defy logic. They have survived over the millennia, through drought, fire, volcanic activity, and human intrusion, growing in the poorest of rocky ground, twisting into the strangest of shapes by unrelenting elements.
To hike here is a privilege. Passing amongst creatures that were 3,000 years old when Christ was born lends an air of reverence to the occasion; people tred softly and speak in low voices.
Personally, I can’t help but touch a few of them on my passage. To feel rough bark, smoothed burnishes of exposed inner wood, and the feather-like softness of their bright green needles, is an exercise that reinforces the reality of what would otherwise be an incomprehensible dreamscape—something too old to begin to fathom.
Although I spent three days wandering among these trees, taking many photographs, it’s this image that struck me: a lone bristlecone with the most extraordinary limbs that seem to be reaching to the moon in an absolutely clear sky.
There’s a tension in this composition, a gravity that seems to set the tree as the center of existence and the moon as its satellite. An ages-old drama in still life.
About this Artwork
Entitled, Moon Over Bristlecone Pine, this photograph presents a dynamic tension between tree and moon. The sheer mass of the tree, with its twisted, outstretched limbs, pulls at the moon with a gravity greater than the Earth.
The work is available as a limited-edition framed print. Its accompanying narrative is etched into a black acrylic plaque, designed to be hung next to the print, as shown in the following illustration.
Click the image below to visit this piece’s detail page where you can read its narrative, check availability and pricing, and more.
