Alaska Alpenglow

Homer is the end of the road. Not a figure of speech, the actual end, where the highway runs out of Alaska and stops at the water. I drove the whole way down from Fairbanks to get here, most of a day and then some, and rolled in with just enough light left to matter.
The sun was already going. For a few minutes at the close of the day the whole Kenai range across the bay turned the color of a struck match, the glacier burning under the peaks while the water in front of it held dark and cold and still.
Then a single red tanker slid into the frame and stopped, and the picture clicked into place. I shot it long so the mountains stack up huge behind it and you feel the real gap in scale. That tanker is the size of a city block. Against the ice it reads as a toy, one small bright man-made thing in front of a wall older than any road.
For anyone who has driven a long way toward cold country just to watch it catch fire at the end of the day. Printed and finished to gallery standard, made to carry that scale and quiet onto a wall. A piece of the far end of the road to keep.