Smoke from the Cougar Creek Fire drifts eastward, coloring a river of wind paralleling the Columbia Gorge. It meanders like the supernatural cloud that spread out fingers of death to claim the lives of Egypt 's first born in that old movie about Moses. High atop the gently eroding Washington edge of the gorge, single minded wind turbines work to steal the winds kinetic energy. They turn, turn, turn it into electricity, and send it to the air conditioners of those who choose to live in deserts, or to those who merely ride the surface of an ever warming globe. Here the temperature is in triple digits. Windmills shimmer and wriggle behind layers of dancing atmosphere. A truck hurtles along the highway, charging through mirage after mirage but never getting wet. Expansive vistas are typically marked with evidence of humans taking treasure from the Earth. Standing on the shoulder of Mt. Hood , watching its shadow stretch out towards The Dalles and beyon
a photographer's take on ART, SCIENCE & THEOLOGY in the Pacific Northwest