Overdue.

Summer has gone by and did so quickly. Jacket season is at our heels and the timing is perfect. One thing that you won't find in the rest of the country is a Midwest autumn. The backyard fires, the taste of cider, the assorted gourds found on every porch, the search for a hayride before the sun sets. It's a bittersweet season, a waiting game in a lot of ways. Time to squeeze in any last travels and look back on the ones from months past.


Elkhart Lake, Wisconsin. Late July. One of my oldest and truest friends Sarah and I traveled North, despite depleted funds.




Singularity.



Town theatre.



Train station turned antique store. Old meets older.



Maybe by the year 2200 my family photos will be old enough to make art.




What's an apron?



No matter the size, every town has trinkets.




"We have learned so much from your culture, I wish you had taken something from ours."

Halfway through our stay, Sarah and I found ourselves immersed in a Wisconsin downpour. With camera and shopping bags strapped, we headed blindly through the country with a brochure for a "Native American Artifacts Museum" on the dash. 20 minutes later and at the top of a winding hill, a sign warned us to enter with peaceful minds because we were coming onto a sacred land.



A family owned the land. The drawing above was modeled after an incident that happened to the current owner's grandfather who had purchased the land to farm. His horse was plowing at the top of a hill when the land crumbled into itself, exposing an Indian burial ground of 20 skeletons, previously undiscovered. The grandfather called in archaeologists who then dug further only to find a tomb in the belly of the hill. The tomb was encased in wood logs, and inside the logs were 40 skeletons, posed at a round table, with a two foot conch shell at the center point of the table. The skeletons were hundreds of years old and the meaning of the ritual burial was never determined.




After hearing this man's stories I asked to take his photo, and he had his granddaughter step in. This room was filled with thousands of Native American tools found on his land, dating back 500 years. This man lives surrounded by artifacts from a different time, created by people who lost in a quiet war against the modern world. It's places like these, tucked into the back pockets of small town America, that create feelings you can't find in a crowded consumer's city.

_._

Indiana, Summer long.




Always smiling in cowboy boots.

There are always disagreements in friendships. Pictured: cat compassion.

Larry came to our house and made a vegetarian feast. I miss you, friend.

Waiting, starving.

We had a girls' day. Sex and the City 2 may have been involved.

My mom hates having her photo taken.

_._

On one of these rolls I found two gems from a winter past, when the Southwest called and we answered readily.

More photos coming, more stories coming, more odes to friends, more plans and more actions taken...