I made this ghostly image through the office window of an abandoned gas station in the semi-ghost town of Hachita. Reflections in this window cause the chair to seem to be drifting in space, while an array of faint weeds float within the wall at left. The abandoned TV seems to have been left on, however it is only a reflection of the photographer making this image. That reflection is also laced with hazy weeds.

This church building was once a saloon, and is now a well-regarded art gallery in this small town along Old US Route 80. The light was harsh and directly overhead when I made this image. I used the high contrast shadows on the gallery wall to my advantage by placing a layer of Ocotillo plants before them. The diagonal roofline draws the from the upper right hand corner into the image, while the slanting roof of the old cupola on top of the building repeats the diagonal.

The Gadsden Hotel is the stuff of legend and history. It opened in 1907, before Arizona became a state. It later was damaged by fire, reopening in 1929 as an early 20th Century Art Nouveau showplace. I made this image from its entrance. The ornate supporting column at right is clad in gold leaf, a classical statue looms ahead of us, while the curving entrance opening echoes one of the lobby’s curving chandeliers.

The Gadsden is currently under restoration by new management. Amidst antique splendor, a modern-day manager deals with the challenges of restoring an old hotel. I was shooting the hotel’s marble lobby from a second story balcony when I noticed him working on a computer in his office. An employee stopped by to chat with him through a partially open door. The overall image contrasts decorative glittering slabs, columns, and arches -- all vestiges of the past – to a brilliantly illuminated yet spartanly furnished contemporary office.

The Chiricahua Apache, who once camped among these pinnacles, called them the “standing up rocks” because it was a place like no other – a magical kingdom of natural formations formed 27 million years ago when the Turkey Creek Volcano erupted, spewing ash over a thousand square miles. The heated ash melted together, forming layers of Rhyolite. Eons of weathering and erosion cracked these rocks into strange sculptures, herding them into a mass arrayed along the slope of an isolated mountain rising above a grassland sea. They comprise the most striking feature of this isolated national monument, which is located about two hours east of Tucson. In this landscape image, I offer a layered view of these formations. Huge boulders lead us to the sculpted rocks, while winter grass leads the eye to the distant mountains at the top of the frame.

Louis Prue was the nearest neighbor of the Erickson family. A former soldier under the command of General George Crook, Prue settled in the area in 1879, reportedly the first settler (aside from the Chiricahua Apaches) in what is now the Chiricahua National Monument. He was the first explorer of this area, and he established a cattle ranch here a full nine years before the Erickson’s arrived from Sweden. On his ranch, he built a stone blockhouse for protection in case of an attack by Geronimo and his Chiricahua Apaches that roamed this area. Before falling from a horse and dying in 1892, Prue asked Neil and Emma Erickson if he could be buried on their homestead, where “he could see his cattle passing on the way to water.” The Erickson family honored his wish. He is buried in a plot surrounded by a rusting original Victorian era fence. A shadowy stone marks his grave, only a few yards away from the Erickson family cemetery. I made this image from this spot to stress the fields of winter grass that stretch into the background. It is a perfect setting for a rancher and explorer who once fought on the American frontier.