In the high desert of the American West, the elements can be unrelenting. Summer sun sears, dry wind parches, and ubiquitous fine dust penetrates everything, irritating eyes, skin and throat. In such a place, natural light can be a wild, uncontrollable metaphor. On this autumn afternoon, the clouds and sunlight coalesced with my intention to convey the dancing, dodging ephemera of memory, as if to tenderly remind me that what once felt harsh and desolate, transforms with perspective and the passage of time.