Landscape of Me

I remember the moments before taking this picture. Still on the first leg of my cross-country road trip, I was processing a new phase of unsettling isolation. Tears had dried on my cheeks, leaving salty trails of white running even under my chin. My face looked worn and older than I’d ever realized before. As I tilted the mirrored visor in my car, I noticed this landscape behind me. It looked like my reflection: stripped bare, persisting under harsh conditions, rising up from behind a fence. I stepped out of the car, now wiping fresh tears which followed the tracks of dried ones, and made this picture to remember the moment.