Looking at a landscape is to glimpse time itself. That which looks stable at the scale of a human lifetime may crumble under the impermance that the passage of time imposes. Rivers file away rock to create canyons, subduction and eruption raise mountains, and glaciers scar the earth and leave behind lakes in their wake.

You can sense this at the foot of an active volcano, where a constant rumbling inspires awe, if not reverence, at the energies at play. You can visualize this at Yellowstone National Park, where the dynamism of the Earth remains in full display as the hissing and gurgling of geysers and fumaroles surround you. But even the flattest of plains, under careful observation, beckons millions of years to the past at its own biography.