Bohemia Mountain: N 43.574288 and W -122.656999 My great-great grandfather was the first forest ranger in the mountains near my home. He named the creeks and valleys for his children and wife. A mountain was named for him when he was crushed by a falling tree. As a baby, I was bathed in the creeks and rivers there. I learned to fish and track animals. Once I shot a gun into the air from beneath the trees to quite the calling of ravens. I watched a large black bird glide from the doug fir, wings outward, slow and straight to the forest floor, shot through the eye. I buried his quiet body there near a fern. When my grandfather died, we let his ashen body float from our hands on the mountain near the old mine. My sister and I did the same for our mother, calling down a strange grey snow in summer. Bohemia Mountain is a psycho-geographic memory. Locations and events linked together with wood and wire, pain and beauty. I’ve tried to capture in a way that makes sense to me the presence of the place, the eventual demise of everything we know or can hope to know. Just as my family has turned to dust, so will I and the place that we were all together. Bohemia Mountain is where my home and family lay, and one day I will join them there.

Bohemia Mountain: N 43.574288 and W -122.656999

My great-great grandfather was the first forest ranger in the mountains near my home. He named the creeks and valleys for his children and wife. A mountain was named for him when he was crushed by a falling tree. As a baby, I was bathed in the creeks and rivers there. I learned to fish and track animals. Once I shot a gun into the air from beneath the trees to quite the calling of ravens. I watched a large black bird glide from the doug fir, wings outward, slow and straight to the forest floor, shot through the eye. I buried his quiet body there near a fern. When my grandfather died, we let his ashen body float from our hands on the mountain near the old mine. My sister and I did the same for our mother, calling down a strange grey snow in summer.

Bohemia Mountain is a psycho-geographic memory. Locations and events linked together with wood and wire, pain and beauty. I’ve tried to capture in a way that makes sense to me the presence of the place, the eventual demise of everything we know or can hope to know. Just as my family has turned to dust, so will I and the place that we were all together. Bohemia Mountain is where my home and family lay, and one day I will join them there.