A few weeks ago, my mom and I decided go visit the old farmhouse where my family lived when I was born, located ten miles northwest of Princeton, Minnesota.
There were cows.
And a little boy chasing a flock of Sandhill Cranes migrating south from Canada.
And this sign.
I lived here, at the end of many miles of winding gravel roads.
There were minutes on end when we could not see another car for as far as the road stretched. It was a beautiful day in September. I’m making the annual mental note to self: spend more time up in northern Minnesota next summer.
Here’s the painting of the farmhouse I did in acrylic.