the pull of what we love


Driving through Pennsylvania and Ohio and Indiana, I felt the pull of crumbling barns once again.

The fields of green and gold are like a balm to my soul. But those I would rather photograph close up, with a large aperture and lots of bokeh. Light streaming off the individual grass. Like so. 

I'm not much of a landscape photographer.

And yet.


And yet. These barns. Oh, they call me.

Rusted, falling down roofs. Caved in walls. Time has had her way with them.

They have served their purpose, given their work. They have been patched and (in many cases) replaced.

And oh, how my heart hurts to see when the replacements are bright shining plastic. Those will not crumble and disappear into the soil. These will require shipping to a landfill. Perhaps they will last longer, I hope so.


Each time we drive through this land, I take photos. Mostly, just for myself, because this is something I love. Seeing the changes in the landscape as we pass through the mountains (of Pennsylvania) and how they roll to a flat prairie in Ohio and then start rolling again as we swoop through Indiana. Oh, there are more geographical differences than just that (lakes and rivers) but it's the bigger picture that I notice as we fly by on the interstate, singing along to the music in our car.


Oh, I love these road trips.

I would absolutely love to be able to take the train - but the train is still (much) more expensive for three people than driving our car. When will we get a truly comparable, sustainable travel option? Please, please, let it be soon!