I painted this mural in collaboration with Fruita Middle School students, and working with them was a truly amazing experience. The mural tells a story which is at once a celebration of and a warning about water in the West.

The story begins on the Fruita side of the trail with the Colorado River looking pristine at sunset. Everything seems possible as the light peeks over the horizon. The river is surrounded by lush greenery and a fish leaps happily in the water. A bit of snowmelt is still visible among spring’s new growth. This is the ideal, the river we want to protect.

The mural then moves into the heat of the day, showing the passage of time. The piece is performative - as the viewer moves through the tunnel they act out our human effect on the environment, and the river and surrounding landscape begin to degrade. Just as in real life, the damage we do may not be apparent at first glance. As invasive tamarisk and Russian olive begin to dominate the scene, the landscape becomes more dry. To symbolize this time of transition, a river otter looks back wistfully toward the beginning of the mural while a great blue heron gives warning of the future to come.

Moving toward the end of the west panel, the river level drops lower and lower. The land becomes dry and inhospitable to even invasive plants.

At the end of the west panel, the river is in peril. Wildfires rage across the dry land, and what is left of the river moves sluggishly. The water is so low that fish cannot pass through the roller dam, and they wash up dead onto dry land.

As the viewer returns to Fruita along the east wall, they begin to have an opposite effect, actively healing the landscape as they move back through the tunnel. Water again flows through the roller dam, and new growth sprouts up in the burn scar left by the wildfire.

The river level steadily rises, and more foliage becomes visible.

Tamarisk beetles consume the tamarisk, making way for the return of native species.

At the end of the east panel, native species and fish have returned. The tall cottonwood seen in the west panel is now dead, but it supports new life as saplings grow up around it and a bird nests in its dry branches. Although the river appears to be rejuvenated, a large swath of exposed land and the lack of snowmelt shows that the river has not fully returned to its original level, demonstrating how our water can be depleted faster than it can be restored.