Verdant, tangled and overlooked. Ecosystems supporting hundreds of migratory bird species lay a stone’s throw from parkway exits. Shoe-laced overpasses stitch together lands, people, and histories, simultaneously creating and dissolving innumerable borders. Rarely perceived as a formal landscape, wetlands are often viewed as a blur beyond the window of a commute, an overgrown fringe beyond the guardrail. Wedged between routes 287 and 78, during the 1960s the land presently demarcated as the Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge was marked to become a sprawling jetport. In 1966, the Refuge was established after local groups purchased the land and donated it to Congress; a portion of the land was later designated as the first piece of wilderness area under the Department of the Interior. The swamp disrupted what could have been, paved paradise for jet-fueled metal birds. This relationship is explored through the trope of an American landscape continually fractured by technology and machinery; however, here the trope is reversed as the swamp has disrupted the anthropogenic sprawl surrounding it. As the glow of ambient light floods above the horizon, the borders of the swamp and the sprawl around it ebb ever further.