The intersection of human institutions and instruments and wild nature as it otherwise might exist without our presence on the planet is the theme that dominates my work. I seek out the pockets of wilderness embedded in the largest metropolises and the traces of human presences in the most remote wildernesses. Abandoned cities. Dissolving roads. The ruins of lost civilizations. Wildernesses rebounding around industrial injury. These are the subjects that draw my eye, the progress of nature despite the planetary spectacle our species has become. Population experts argue the earth’s resources can reasonably sustain no more than two billion human beings, but we are long past that threshold at seven and a half billion souls with a net gain of 200,000 new inhabitants each day. This statistic is testimony to our innovativeness as a species as much as it heralds our rapaciousness, and it has caused me to remain mindful in my landscape work that we have entered the Anthropocene—the unofficial name for the latter part of our geological epoch popularized by Nobel Prize winning climate scientist Paul Crutzen, who believes the impact our species has had upon the planet since the industrial revolution is so consequential it is time to rename the era accordingly. My recent projects include bodies of work on polar climate change, the politics of water in North America, the absence of natural darkness, and the long history of human habitation across the northern tundra biome.