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The occasional picnic
My dad was born in this little town, almost 93 years ago. Our trip fell shortly before the one-year anniversary of his death and I was strangely drawn to the place. I wanted to look at my great-grandmother’s grave. You know what? I needed to look at it; somehow I thought that connection would make things feel more right*.
After that, we took advantage of the picnic tables provided by the town, for the use of the occasional traveler, and had lunch before we continue home.
Branson, Colorado
photographed 9.5.2016
*Did it? No, I don’t think it did, really.
American Agriculture
My good friend Brett Erickson often speaks of the importance of finding (and photographing, of course) metaphors.
And, so, here’s one view of the future of American agriculture, where the newest thing in the entire scene is the container from a Japanese-based shipping company.
Campo, Colorado
photographed 8.30.2016




