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the passage
An abandoned farmhouse on the High Plains tells a story – a story of dreams, of rural traditions and expectations, of change, of endings.
An abandoned farmhouse with a wheelchair ramp tells a story that seems more complicated. And more sad.
Lynn County, Texas
photographed 2.28.2026
an agrarian society
Just across a dry and sticker-infested field from yesterday’s boat picture is a little church with the world’s saddest playground next to it. Just to cite one example of how dismal it is, this hobby horse is the best thing there. And it feels like it’s trying to get away from a crime scene.
Levelland, Texas
photographed 2.28.2026
love/boat
I’ve been watching this location for about 15 years or so. It’s a few blocks from my office and it’s got an odd set of stuff. A cotton gin, to start with, right in the middle of town. (Cotton gins are very dirty during ginning season and not really the sort of local business that needs to be right in town.) And then there’s this boat graveyard. The boats change from time to time, but there’s always some there. None of them have motors, or seats, or life jackets: it’s just fiberglass husks of past glory .
This one, with a slight error in the Bible quote, has been there since 2021. I’m trying to imagine the circumstances that led to the decision to put a proselytizing boat in a field beside a cotton gin.
And I can’t come with a single thing. Mysterious ways and all that, I guess.
Levelland, Texas
photographed 2.28.2026
broken home
Here’s something else I spotted on my work trip the other day.
Clearly, this mobile home encountered something disastrous and I went back on Saturday to give it a further look.
It was new: as I walked up I could smell the new wood and the weird out-gassing smell of plastic laminate or flooring or whatever.
And also, is it just me, or does the part of the wall that’s just below the power pole look like part of an eye?
Lynn County, Texas
photographed 2.28.2026
One Day | One Image 