On May 16th, 2025 an F3 Tornado tore through the city of St Louis, Missouri. 5 people lost their lives, dozens of neighbors injured, thousands of residents left without homes or resources. Hundreds of buildings including childcare, schools, libraries, and small local businesses. The financial devastation estimate is over $2 Billion to our beloved city.
The impact of that day is still active in our bones today. This project began as a way for me to process the grief. It grew into a conversation around the work we were doing at The People's Response. The conversations have taken root in different directions AND the rhythm is, show up, serve the people, return to the trees.
Over the last year, dozens of people have stopped to inquire what it is I am doing with the trees. Folks have shared stories or survival, loss, and heartbreak. There's concern, confusion and frustration about what the city and the nature will look like as we work to repair and rebuild. AND people are KIND and CURIOUS about what the trees have to say.
The Tree Scan Project is an exploration in paying tribute, honoring what was, acknowledging what works and what doesn't and watching as nature finds a way to keep us humble.
The Tree Scan Project is an exploration in paying tribute, honoring what was, acknowledging what works and what doesn't and watching as nature finds a way to keep us humble.
Join in making a donation, volunteering your time/services and staying involved. There are links here below to participate. In honor of the humans, the trees and the city impacted by this moment, let's see what we can do together.
314Oasis Community Care Resource Hub
314Oasis Community Care Resource Hub
Forest Park Forever Keeping Forest Park the gem that it is.
WildLife Rescue The animals need helpers too:)
When I saw the devastation to the trees throughout the city and our parks, my heart broke for the loss of nature we were experiencing too. As a photographer, taking photos didn't feel right in this moment. With encouragement from the art store team, I decided to work with a new medium, something more tangible to bring to life the story that the trees had to tell.
For over 17 years I have called St Louis home and Forest Park has been my office for my photography work, my favorite place to walk, a sanctuary in times of grief, and a respite from the summer heat under the giant canopy trees. I have had a connection to this park since I was a child coming to visit. When I drove back into the park, a couple hours after the tornado tore through, the shock and devastation forever changed me.
This project quickly became bigger than just me and my favorite tree. It is filled with love from the community, folks who also share their appreciation and reverence for nature and how it connects us. Climate disasters don't discriminate, they inch closer and closer until it's our turn to endure.
What will we learn from this moment? How will we show up going forward? What do the trees want to remember? What history did they witness? What has been uprooted and unveiled? I have so many questions to bring to the trees. Thanks for being here, I hope you continue to join me on the journey.
I never imagined this project taking me on the twists and turns that it has. My hope is to have the pieces on display for folks to walk through soon. Stick around. Stay connected. I am working on this project little by little, most days. Your support helps me explore where the roots are digging in and where the branches are reaching out to.
Thank you!
When Great Trees Fall
Maya Angelou
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
Want to work together and collaborate on your photography needs? Click the button above this text. I'd love to see what story we can tell together.
This project is still in process and this site will be updated as it progresses, shifts and changes. Scroll back up. Click the buttons. See what you discover.
