In Arizona, we came across a small, long-forgotten farmstead. A weathered shed stood among old fencing, its boards faded and worn by decades of sun and wind. What struck us most was the contrast: a storm was building in the distance, its sky heavy with deep grays and purples, while at our feet the ground was alive with spring growth. Bright green grasses swayed in the wind, dotted with yellow wildflowers—life thriving in front of decay.

Randy captured the moment quickly, framing the shed against the turbulent sky. The scene carried both tension and resilience: the storm looming above, the fragile flowers below, and in between a structure that had endured far longer than its builders might have imagined. It was one of those serendipitous finds that makes you stop, look closer, and see the poetry in contrast.