Call It a Grief Ritual
Dublin Core
Title
Call It a Grief Ritual
Description
I tried to drive to a high elevation spot near the Blue Ridge Parkway to photograph the aurora, but it seems every way is blocked by a landslide that hasn't been cleaned up yet. I went back to the River Arts District in Asheville, hoping I might get lucky and find the northern lights faintly illuminating the desolation of my former gallery. I guess the power outages have a silver lining, because I was surprised at how much color I was able to see with the naked eye even near the middle of the city.
I've never attempted an urban nightscape before. I always thought "the dark, sacred night" could be found only in the deep hollers and hills, where fireflies light paths to wildflower fields under the faint glow of the Milky Way.
It was my love of night things that drove me to become a photographer in the first place, and it's what earned me a spot at Foundation Studios. I suppose it's fitting to ply my craft as a way of saying goodbye to this lovely little spot by the river.
I've never attempted an urban nightscape before. I always thought "the dark, sacred night" could be found only in the deep hollers and hills, where fireflies light paths to wildflower fields under the faint glow of the Milky Way.
It was my love of night things that drove me to become a photographer in the first place, and it's what earned me a spot at Foundation Studios. I suppose it's fitting to ply my craft as a way of saying goodbye to this lovely little spot by the river.
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Citation
Tim Reaves, “Call It a Grief Ritual,” Come Hell or High Water Community Memory Project, accessed January 25, 2026, https://helenehistory.omeka.net/items/show/1194.