An amaryllis blossoming in April. A girl on her fifth birthday. A gardener transplanting young perennial begonias. These images that make up Fern Valley, a body of work I made during 2020-2021, embody promise. They forefront hope during a time of global despair. They celebrate resilience. They exalt wonder. And, they affirm love.

In March 2020, I was in New York during the height of the pandemic. I accepted an invitation to join a loved one’s family in the safety of the North Georgia Mountains. I had never met them before. With some reservation, I packed my 8x10 view camera, clothes and books, and went. Like most at the time, I thought the crisis would be short-lived.

While sensitive to the critical moment in our world, rather than orienting my vision toward despair, I opted for a generative stance. I elected, that is, to embrace the possibility of the moment. Guided by that mindset, I sought to create works that honored the people, animals, and landscape that welcomed me. I sought light. I turned toward beauty. I resolved to learn about my new temporary home, its history, and culture, and myself in relation to it.

Fern Valley, a private residence and fly fishing destination, is situated on former Cherokee land along the Soque River. Aware of its history, the family who now owns the property, assures hospitality to all guests as a way of honoring those who once lived there. They maintain conservation agreements that limit development of the land. And, they support environmental initiatives to safeguard and restore the river. Fern Valley is, thus, a place that both protects and is protected.

The virtues inherent therein—generosity, humility, kindness, and empathy—inspired my photographic search. What emerged was a series of portraits, still lifes, and landscapes that reveal the exploration—and creation—of kinship with nature, animals, and a family. What has endured beyond the body of work are  lessons about grace and goodness; respect and care; commitment and courage.