Mono Lake

I had seen Mono Lake in photographs long before I ever stood on its shore—those strange limestone towers rising from water the color of tarnished silver. They looked unreal, like something imagined rather than discovered. Still, doubt followed me as I drove North toward the high desert. Would the place feel as powerful in person? Would the light show up when I needed it to? Mono Lake is ancient—over 760,000 years old, one of the oldest lakes in North America—and it has endured more change than any photograph could capture. Long before cameras, the Kutzadika’a people lived along its edges, harvesting the alkali flies that thrived in its salty waters. Later, in 1941, Los Angeles diverted the streams that fed the lake, causing the water level to drop dramatically and exposing the tufa formations that now define its otherworldly beauty. As I parked and stepped out into the thin air, I felt like I was approaching something that had already survived countless trials—human and natural alike.

As I scouted for a composition, my boots crunching over salt and stone. The tufa towers stood like silent guardians, formed when freshwater springs mixed with the alkaline lake, building these structures molecule by molecule over thousands of years. I set up my tripod with care, knowing this was not a place to rush. I wasn’t just photographing a landscape; I was standing in the aftermath of a hard-won victory. In the 1980s and ’90s, scientists and activists fought to protect Mono Lake, leading to landmark water-rights decisions that began restoring its levels. This place had nearly been lost, and yet here it was, resilient.

When I finally pressed the shutter, it felt less like taking a picture and more like bearing witness. The image on the back of my camera held the towers, the light, the silence—but also the weight of time. Mono Lake had endured ice ages, volcanic eruptions, and human intervention, and it was still standing. As I packed up and walked back toward the car, I realized the journey wasn’t about proving I could capture a “good” photograph. It was about meeting an ancient survivor face to face and coming away changed, carrying a small piece of its story forward in a single frame.