One quiet truth shared by both life and photography is this:
Sometimes what unfolds is unplanned, uninvited, and beyond our control.
This image is one such moment—where chance, consequence, and observation met without warning.
While navigating the winding roads of the Colorado National Monument, a solitary, lifeless juniper caught my eye.
Its stark silhouette stood defiantly against the cliffside, as if voicing a final protest:
“See me. Acknowledge my existence.”
I drove on, but the image stayed with me.
Eventually, I turned around, parked alongside the narrow road, and stood before it—camera in hand—hoping to honor what remained.
Juniper trees are nature’s quiet warriors.
They endure what most plants cannot—bone-chilling cold, blistering heat, fierce winds, and arid soil.
Even with minimal water, their roots stretch deep, seeking what they need to survive.
Many live for centuries. Some have lasted over a thousand years.
Imagine how many generations this tree had witnessed.
How many storms it had stood through.
How many sunrises it had greeted in stillness.
And yet now, it stood brittle, hollow, and still.
Weeks later, I visited a recycling facility during a program organized by Walking Mountains Science Center. There, I photographed dense, compacted blocks of discarded plastic waste—compressed remnants of human consumption.
Using my camera’s in-camera overlay feature, I merged the image of the dead juniper with this artificial landscape.
What emerged was unintentional—yet hauntingly powerful. A visual metaphor of nature suffocating under the weight of human disregard.
The image, titled Juniper’s Last Gasp, has since been featured in Vail magazine, and exhibited in several galleries in the country including, Vail, CO, Denver, CO Yeiser Art Center, KY., and Hillard Gallery, Kansas City, MO., Webster Grove, MO. Rhode Island, Portland, OR Daniels and Fisher Downtown Clocktower - Denver CO
Let this piece serve as more than art.
Let it be a warning.
Even the most resilient forms of life reach a breaking point.
Resilience has a limit.
Respect must come before the last gasp.
Available in large framed archival prints, Canvases and Acrylic prints.
24” x 36” Xpozer float print $750
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Credits:
Photo and Story © 2021-2025 Raj Manickam