Something that photography is able to do, specifically with the advent of digital photography, is make images that the naked eye couldn't see. Taking multiple pictures and digitally stitching them together in photoshop to make a bigger picture, the big picture. One can see why even the phrasing of that idea would be something I'm attracted to: the big picture and getting to see it.
My grandparents live in Puerto Rico. They are more than familiar with the way neoliberal thought about climate change trickles down to them. But I don't think of hurting them when I drive, about how my carbon footprint steps on them. I'm not seeing it happen, not near me. My privilege is my cognitive dissonance. I can understand how it all works, to an extent, but why can't I really get it?
I find refuge in the writings of contemporary ecological philosopher Timothy Morton. One of the points he makes in his many of his books is that both of the following statements are true: my driving causes climate change, and my driving doesn't cause climate change. It's the issue of Tragedy of the Commons, but leaves room to acknowledge my privileged internal reality: I am not constantly reminded of my life and living becoming impossible. In a broader sense, the connection is too big, yet all too real, for me to grasp.
To the right is an image of a split fence on a farm in Point Reyes after the 1906 earthquake. There are few images like this from that time, and this one doesn't depict it correctly. As a whole, Point Reyes moved north 21 feet. Some parts seem to have moved less than that, but it is merely a result of malleable stone and grassland being stretched.