Juniper’s Last Gasp

Juniper’s Last Gasp

An observation that lingered long enough to become a story - Colorado National Monument Fruita, CO. The Story

Juniper trees are among the most resilient forms of life in the American West. Many live for hundreds of years, enduring harsh winters, scorching summers, relentless winds, and long stretches with very little water. In landscapes where many other trees cannot survive, the juniper persists. This photograph began with a moment that almost passed me by. I was driving through Colorado National Monument near Fruita, Colorado, when I noticed this Utah Juniper standing quietly along the ridge. I kept driving. But something about the tree lingered in my mind. I drove nearly three miles past it before realizing I couldn’t shake the thought. So I turned the car around and drove back down that winding, narrow two-lane road. Standing before the weathered juniper, centuries of hardship etched into its bark, it felt less like a monument to endurance and more like a living witness caught in a fragile moment — as if the tree itself was taking its final breath before surrendering to the relentless passage of time. I made the photograph and paused for a moment. Almost under my breath, I remember saying quietly, “You happy now? Can I continue driving?” It wasn’t said out of annoyance. If anything, it felt more like asking for approval — as though the tree itself had insisted that I come back and acknowledge it before moving on. Not realizing then that the story of this tree was only beginning, I continued on my way. About a week later, I visited a landfill and recycling facility. While walking through the site, I noticed large stacks of compressed recycled materials, tightly packed into colorful blocks. I took several photographs on this tour organized by Walking Mountain, a local Natural Science School. Later that evening, while sitting with my camera, I began exploring some of the features on this newer street camera. One function caught my attention: in-camera overlay. I had never really used it before. Curious, I clicked on it. The camera asked me to choose the first photograph. I started scrolling through the images stored on the card. None of them had been downloaded yet. As I moved through the frames, I suddenly came across the juniper — the very tree that had made me turn the car around miles back on that narrow road. I selected that image. The camera then prompted me to choose a second photograph to overlay. So I scrolled again. Among the images were photographs I had taken earlier while visiting a landfill and recycling facility. One of them showed colorful blocks of compressed recycled material stacked in large piles. Almost without thinking, I selected one of those images. The moment I confirmed the selection… Boom. The composite image appeared right there on the camera screen.

I sat there stunned. It felt as though the tree had been waiting for this conversation to continue. The story of that juniper — the one that had quietly called me back while I was driving — suddenly came alive again. What had seemed like a quiet, weathered tree on a ridge now carried a completely different meaning. The colorful recycled materials merged with the image of the tree, transforming it into something symbolic — a visual reminder of our relationship with the environment and the responsibility we carry to care for it. In that moment, I almost felt as if the tree had finally answered the question I had asked earlier on the roadside. What began as a lingering thought while driving past a tree had turned into something else entirely. That quiet moment on a roadside ridge, the landfill visit, and the accidental discovery of a camera feature had somehow come together to tell a story. The image eventually traveled far beyond that quiet ridge in Colorado. It appeared in exhibitions across several states, received recognition and awards, and was even projected digitally at the historic Denver Clocktower downtown, where the juniper’s story was displayed in light and color for others to see. Moments like this remind me that photography is often less about creating an image and more about recognizing when a story quietly reveals itself. Yet the most meaningful moment remains the first one — when the image appeared unexpectedly on the back of the camera screen. A simple reminder that some stories reveal themselves only when we pause long enough to see them. — Raj Manickam

Exhibitions & References

Art of the State – Arvada Center Colorado Mountain College Exhibition Frame Destination Artist Spotlight Vail Daily Feature

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

Available in large framed archival prints, Canvases and Acrylic prints.

24” x 36” Xpozer float print $750

24” x 36” Framed archival print $850

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