When I began photographing the ice of Mongolia’s “Mother Lake” -- Lake Hovsgol – it was because I was drawn to its patterns and its crystalline beauty. The ice of the Yol Valley fascinated me by its texture and density, with an underlying sense of the water running through the Valley in summer.

Lake Hovsgol begins to freeze in early October and by February, the ice reaches down as deep as 120 centimeters (approximately 48 inches). The almost daily sunshine slants across it, warming its surface. As it does, the ice expands and then gradually contracts when day returns to darkness. It is this, along with the almost constant winter wind, that causes massive fractures and wave-like patterns along its length and breadth. Punctate marks appear where Mongolian horses, nails driven into their hooves for traction, drag heavy sledges across the ice, etching paths as they go. Vans and autos use the frozen lake as a highway, to avoid the rutted and difficult roads of the Mongolian winter, and trace their own ways, creating new patterns in the ice.

The Yol Valley is an oddity – a valley/gorge in the middle of the Gobi Desert. The freshwater spring that winds its way through the valley freezes solid from November to May. The Valley is constantly fed by this water, so the ice builds, layer on layer, providing a dramatic contrast of textures and surfaces. Even in the middle of summer, patches of ice remain in the Valley, edged by grass and hardy plants. As I reviewed the photographs later, I came to the realization that the ice is truly a metaphor for the awesome beauty, drama, and strength of Mongolia itself.

 These photographs are my way of sharing what I have seen, and how I see it, with you.