I recently traveled to White Sands with my mom, Meredith, and my aunt, her son, and his two kids. I didn’t really doing anything “artsy” while I was there — I mainly took photos of the family sledding down the dunes or being buried in the sand.
White Sands is a magical place. It’s been many moons since I was buried, but the sensation of cool, heavy sand weighing on my chest was incredible, and the 7-second trips down the dunes on the sleds were exhilarating considering the duration of the ride. Nonetheless, when my little cousin Arecelia offered to race me to the next dune, and then presented this image, I had to stop for a photo ((after which I started running again, so I could eek out a narrow victory)).