Dark clouds loom ahead on the way home from Ohio University for my freshman year's spring break on March 6, 2020, on the James A. Rhodes Appalachian Highway. I didn't know it at the time, but due to the COVID-19 pandemic reaching the United States a week or so later, I wouldn't return to Athens for in-person classes until my August, 2021, for my junior year.
We Still
have sunshine and moonlight,
deep breathes and birds’ songs,
blue skies and bright blooms,
hope in our eyes,
warmth in our hearts,
and we’ll always have
we still.
Nearly a year and a half passed from feeling the ripple effects of the entry of the coronavirus pandemic in the United States in 2020 to the return of a somewhat normal life for me as a college student living in Ohio in 2021. We Still is a reflection showing scenes of my visual experience where I felt gratitude, uncertainty or intrigue.
This project was recognized by the Ohio News Photographers Association in my 2021 Larry Fullerton Scholarship-winning portfolio.
My shadow crosses the railroad tracks that run through my hometown of Loveland, Ohio, as I ride my bike home from my restaurant job on January 9, 2021. While living back at my parents’ house, I would cross these tracks every day to and from work, sometimes thinking about the freedom the trains have that pass through.
Balloons float off into the sky during a heartbreaking six-year-old child's celebration of life I'm covering for the Cincinnati Enquirer on March 2, 2021. While the pandemic kept me home from Ohio University for the end of my freshman year and my entire sophomore year, an internship with The Enquirer allowed me the on-the-ground learning and growth I yearned for.
Laine Dannemiller, my girlfriend since the last bit of high school in 2019, laughs on FaceTime while I make lunch on August 27, 2020. We were on spring break together when we first heard news of the coronavirus reaching the United States and spent much our time away from school together in the same hometown.
Dan Timmerman, my dad, leads the way up into the attic of our 150 year old home to close the windows on August 20, 2020. My dad and I share a middle name, Moore, and even though we often argue, I’m constantly finding more ways that we're similar as I grow up.
Stars streak outside the plane window as I cross the Atlantic Ocean en route of Nairobi, Kenya, from New York City early in the morning on July 15, 2021. Time, like these stars, has seemed to fly by faster than usual since the beginning of the pandemic.
After only arriving at the Strouds Run State Park beach with one other friend, Laine and I run into a group of friends and end of spending the afternoon with them on July 4, 2021. For one of the first times in a long time, we felt like normal college students just having fun after a whole year physically separated from the college lives we expected.
On a short, much-needed vacation from school, internships and work, Laine and I drive around Athens following a backpacking trip on July 4, 2021. Time spent in nature, and with Laine, always seems to keep me grounded.
During a self-portrait, I float in the creek beyond my backyard where I spent my childhood exploring on August 12, 2021, in Loveland, Ohio. This image was made in the final days of self-quarantine after testing positive for the COVID-19 virus ten days earlier.
The waxing crescent moon rises above a peaceful sky in Athens, Ohio, on the evening of Sept. 12, 2021. After a year and a half, I've returned to Athens for in-person school at Ohio University where I'll stay for my remaining two years — still hopeful for the future.
