It's been a long time since I've gone on an adventure. My usual habits had me exploring and photographing San Diego's east county at least once or twice a month these past few years, but for a variety of reasons, this "tradition" mellowed out late last spring. Aside from a handful of visits over the summer, my life has largely been adventure free since then, and it's something I tend to really miss.

This past Wednesday, I spent a few hours visiting Julian, California with my buddy Will. On the way back, we stopped at a roadside turnoff I'd passed countless times before, but never really thought to explore. This place, called Inaja Memorial Park, consists of a small parking lot leading up to a short looped trail which offers a stunning view of the Santa Ysabel valley. Located at near the headwaters of the San Diego River, this site serves as a memorial to eleven men who lost their lives while fighting a 1956 forest fire [1]. Though we only stayed for a few minutes as we hiked the short trail, I had a chance to snap a few photos and shoot some b-roll.

Something about the empty (yet slightly hazy) sky led me to capture the negative space of the moment. Photographs like these, though simple and barely exciting, instill a sense of serenity and paradoxical focus. While lacking a true "subject," landscapes favoring negative space often speak volumes to the viewer. There's something inherently simple about a photo in which the vast majority of the frame is filled with either a solid color, or a slight natural gradient. It's modern, yet classic. And at the intersection of these two elements, one can find peace.