Take notes. What is a nest. Nature will take it all back. I am probably the only person on the planet who thinks this is a good thing. I do not care about Homo sapiens sapiens. I care about wildlife, and you only think that none of them live with you. But no. They live all around you, and they are important because they have all helped sculpt the land. I do not see photographic sadness. I see the wild as taking your sadness failures and turning them into places where trees, nests, wild grass, fields and meadows and fish ponds can flourish. It is not ruination. It is life. Every country in the Commonwealth (just one example) is filled with people who have no home. Consider it a challenge to build better, smarter houses. Across the pond, my life and my friends are foxes, skunks, squirrels, coyotes, bears, a thousand species of birds, deer, river otters, red wolves, beavers, chipmunks, and awesome mountain lions. These guys would love a house where they could build a nest. The photographs in this are voices. An element of sadness creeps into each photograph as an icon of abandonment. Homo sapiens abandon their nests and go find another one. My coyotes live in a cave. My mountain lioness has been sleeping in the hay loft of my neighbor’s farm. My neighbor has no idea she is in his barn. His barn. Her barn. He will kill her if he finds her. I am thinking of building her a smart treehouse over here. Winter has its tongue wrapped around the lamppost of memory’s frozen breath.