Through the Haze: Capturing Oregon’s Smoky Silence
A Late-Night Journey into a Silent Hill of Our Own Making
A Silent Hill in Real Life: Oregon’s Smoky Desolation
2020 was a year like no other—fires raged across Oregon, political tensions boiled over, and the pandemic gripped us all. It was as if the universe had decided to throw every challenge at us simultaneously, just to see what would stick. Among the chaos, I found myself banned from homes—yes, really—because I spoke out with my beliefs.
But the absurdity didn’t end there. The air was so thick with smoke that it felt like we were living in a real-life version of Silent Hill. The streets were empty, the sky was an ominous shade of orange, and the world seemed to be holding its breath. And I? I decided to embrace the madness and capture it all through my lens.
The iconic Portland, Oregon sign looms out of the smoke-filled air, the glowing stag barely visible through the thick haze that enveloped the city during the 2020 wildfires. Streetlights cast a muted blue hue, reflecting the eerie silence of an abandoned street.
A streetlight struggles to pierce the smoke-filled air, casting eerie shadows over an empty street. The trees loom like silent sentinels, their branches shrouded in a thick, ghostly haze. This isn’t just a quiet night—it’s a world paused, waiting.
A Night Alone with My Camera
There’s something hauntingly beautiful about driving through an empty city at 1 AM, knowing that everyone else is hunkered down, hiding from the very air they breathe. No traffic, no people—just the hum of my engine and the occasional flicker of a streetlight cutting through the gloom.
That night, the streets were mine. I drove around, capturing the stillness, the desolation. The air was thick, almost suffocating, and yet, there was a strange peace in it all. It was as if the world had taken a collective breath and was now waiting for whatever came next.
A solitary streetlamp casts a golden glow over a deserted track, the light cutting through the smoke-filled night. The eerie stillness is palpable, as if the world has paused, holding its breath in the midst of the 2020 Oregon wildfires.
The fogged-up windows of a high-rise, barely visible through the thick smoke, stand tall in the eerie silence. A single light flickers inside—a reminder that even in darkness, life persists.
A small house stands in stark contrast against the oppressive smoke, its windows warmly lit as if offering a beacon of normalcy in the chaos of the 2020 wildfires. The street outside is shrouded in thick fog, with a streetlamp piercing through the darkness.
The Absurdity of It All
And then, there were the fires. The inferno that swept across the state, leaving destruction in its wake. People were so terrified of Antifa—or whatever boogeyman they’d conjured up—that they refused to evacuate their homes. Imagine staying put in the face of a firestorm because you’re more afraid of some mythical threat than the very real flames licking at your doorstep. I had family members who wouldn’t leave because they thought their homes would be looted the moment they stepped out. Ridiculous? Absolutely. But that was 2020 for you.
Graffiti on a utility box reads "Death to Amerikkka," a stark reminder of the turmoil gripping the nation. The smoke-laden air only adds to the sense of foreboding that hangs heavy in the night.
The empty tracks stretch into the smoky void, lit only by the faint glow of streetlights. It’s the kind of scene where you half-expect to see a ghostly train appear, chugging along in defiance of the world’s end.
The street signs stand as silent sentinels, their instructions lost in the haze of smoke. The city, usually bustling, feels like a ghost town under the oppressive weight of the fires.
A solitary green traffic light glows against the dark, smoke-filled sky, its beam cutting through the gloom but barely making a dent in the pervasive smoke. It stands as a lone signal in a city brought to a standstill by the fires.
The traffic lights hang suspended in the smoky air, casting an eerie red glow over the empty intersection. The smoke blurs the lines between the real and the unreal, making it hard to tell if this is a scene from a dystopian future or the present.
Finding Solace in the Solitude
In the midst of all this, I found something unexpected—solitude. Not the kind that comes from being alone, but the kind that fills you when the world around you is so quiet, so still, that you can hear your own thoughts. It was a chance to reflect, to process everything that had happened, and to capture moments that felt like they shouldn’t exist.
The towering silhouette of an industrial structure looms out of the smoke, bathed in an unnatural, sickly green light. It’s a scene straight out of a dystopian future—one that feels all too real.
A van parked under a lone streetlight, the word "Equality!" boldly displayed in the background. The message is clear, even through the suffocating smoke—this is a fight that won’t be silenced.
The Aftermath
As the fires died down and the smoke began to clear, the world started to come back to life. But those nights, driving through the deserted streets, will stay with me. They were a reminder of how fragile everything is—our lives, our world, our very existence. And yet, in that fragility, there’s a kind of strength, a resilience that keeps us going, even when everything around us is falling apart.
An empty street, lit by the green glow of a traffic light, stretches out into the smoke-filled night. It’s as if the world has hit pause, leaving the city frozen in a moment of eerie calm.
A lone traffic light, glowing red through the smoke, stands as a silent witness to the night’s events. It’s a symbol of all the things we’ve stopped for, and all the things we’ve kept moving through.
Two towering bridge pillars rise up, their tops lost in the smoke, glowing with an unnatural light. The whole scene feels otherworldly, like something out of a sci-fi movie where the world has been swallowed by a thick, impenetrable fog.
The Moda Center illuminated in purple hues against the smoky backdrop, with a car passing by, its headlights slicing through the fog. It’s a stark reminder that life goes on, even in the midst of a smoky apocalypse.
A desolate parking garage, dimly lit with a lone car parked inside. The smoke turns the space into a shadowy labyrinth, where the usual rules don’t apply. It’s quiet, too quiet.
The word "YARD" glows against the dark, the smoke distorting its reflection in a surreal echo. The building looms like a monolith in the night, obscured by the heavy air.
A lone figure stands on a deserted street, the only sign of life in an otherwise empty scene. The smoke hangs thick, muting the colors and muffling the sounds of the city.
The neon sign of a local A-Boy hardware store glows defiantly in the smoke, standing out as a lone sentinel in the deserted parking lot. It’s both mundane and surreal, a touch of everyday life in a world that’s anything but.
2020 was a year we’ll never forget, for all the wrong reasons. But in the midst of the chaos, there were moments of beauty, of stillness, of clarity. And those are the moments I’ll remember—the nights when the world went silent, and I was alone with my thoughts, my camera, and the smoky, desolate streets of Oregon.
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