
Howdy, Pilgrims!
I hope the last days of summer find you well. This is a short Signal, just some housekeeping and a few thoughts on photography. I’ll be bombarding your inbox quite a bit over the next few months.
On reflection, I have decided to make several book length projects, including Democratic Rock or Republican Whirlpool? and the audio book of Getting Through Security, available to free subscribers. There will almost certainly be others.
This is a change of heart. I started this newsletter in an effort to reach people and build audiences, and so everything has been free. That said, it did not feel quite right to give away a “book.” So a few weeks ago I paywalled some content, accessible to paid subscribers. The problem is, I reach more people, by two orders of magnitude, with free subscriptions. I get it; I have a lot of free subscriptions. Five dollars a month adds up, everybody has too many subscriptions, and serialized books take a long time to arrive. And I have a day job. In short, the books are free.
So, where are we?
Democratic Rock or Republican Whirlpool? Part I
Democratic Rock or Republican Whirlpool? Part II
Democratic Rock or Republican Whirlpool? Part III
Getting Through Security Part One
Getting Through Security Part Two
All free! Enjoy!
At least at present, Substack is largely a gift economy. One gives, one receives, one gives back. For a few people, either due to serious fame or professional needs, paid subscriptions make a lot of money. But serving a well defined market imposes its own constraints, like being a genre author, and I have no interest in that. So I’m firmly in gift economy mode here.
Therefore, to my paid subscribers, THANK YOU. Your support is really appreciated. If you enjoy my work and are in a position to take out a paid subscription, that would be great. (If you recently took out a paid subscription just to acquire a book that you can now get for free, and want a refund, let me know.)
A few images from the last ten days or so. As you can see, I’m still photographing megafauna. At least with regard to moose, however, the question for me is not “look, a moose,” because I see moose a lot, but what is the moose doing? So, seeing a moose cow relaxing with her calf is pretty special. It’s because I’m so Zen. I am wrapping up summer, so no elk this time ‘round!
Whatever type of subscription you have, please interact with these texts. Substack measures and rewards engagement by disseminating my work, which from my perspective is the point of the enterprise. So, if you like what I am doing, please give me a heart, write a comment, repost, or send to your friends.
Or you can just buy a real book! David A. Westbrook Books
Finally, a hint: many of you receive Intermittent Signal on your phones, or as emails. Signals look much better on the web, especially the photographs, but also the text.

I’ve long been interested in landscapes. If anything, I’m getting more interested. I think landscapes raise existential questions. Why am I here, now? Why am I anywhere?
And speaking of global agriculture . . .
One of the ways that photography is different from painting is that photography allows, indeed rewards, multiple versions of roughly the same shot. If you want to take a good photograph, take a lot of photographs. This means that you will have to decide which image is best. What is this photograph really about? What is not essential, what is distracting? The picture thus emerges from what is cropped out, the image left after the superfluous and distracting things are thrown away. Sort of like sculpture, I guess: the creative process is largely about discarding.
I am quite proud of this image, but I’m not 100% sure this is the best version. I saw the sun on the horizon in my rear view, hurriedly exited the highway, there was a dip, I sped to the nearest rise as the sun was disappearing, and took about a dozen shots in less than a minute. Then the sun was gone. I looked down over my goat ropers at a tiny snake, which was dead. High west, man.
The differences in the images are subtle. Well, the whole picture is subtle. That’s the point. Again, a real screen is advised. I showed my son, said I was proud of it. He asked why. The easy answer is that a landscape this uncluttered is rare, and has its own drama. But I said that most pictures have an obvious subject, and so the brain recognizes what the picture must be about, and stops thinking. So a picture about almost nothing . . .
Soon comes the fall. The elk have begun bugling.
— David A. Westbrook
Nice photos. The sunset is nice, showing the works of man as small bumps and spikes on the skyline, with the sun and sky seeming to make them trivial challenges to all-powerful nature.
I love the photo of the glider - it's mind-blowing!