Dialing in from North of the border

There’s a little sliver of heaven in Northern Minnesota.  Those who live there know of the plentiful fish–and the plentiful mosquitoes.  But the flying beasts do not bother you when you’re out on the boat.  Neither do other boats.  Because on most days, you can get out among the islands to find yourself completely alone.  Except for the outstanding company on your boat.

While there over the week, I captured two unique images–and a fair amount of Walleye, Northerns, and a couple of other types of fish.  Here are the two photos.


Ideal close to a fishing day:


Eagle, you are cleared for flyby:

Perfect Eagle DSC_9632-email


Cheap entertainment.

So here I am again in this hotel for another night away from everything I know. Nothing on TV, nowhere to be, and nothing new to see in this town. But I can try to capture things in new ways, and I can try to abstract things that will challenge anyone who sees. So here goes.


Driveabout: February 9

Disclaimer:  Nothing special here.  Move along.

I went out today because I needed some fresh air and I also needed to satisfy a curiosity I’ve had for the past week.

About the curiosity:  While looking around my area via Google Maps, I found this odd shadow just a few miles south.  It looked like a house or maybe monument–after all, Civil War bleeds through this area to this very day.


When I got there, here what I saw:


I drove away without even taking a photo.  Then, the oddity of the scene made me stop and drive back to take that photo.  I’d driven two miles away when the image of the house finally struck me.  It’s February; trees are bare except for the evergreens.  Not only does the tree by the house look unseasonably green, but the leaves were shaking in the breeze just a little too much.  The road to the house is now as forgotten as the family that once lived here.  But something is there.  On the drive back, I didn’t see another tree in green that didn’t have needles.

This interesting location I did *not* anticipate.  How peaceful to live and work in a mill.


This house stood alone in a field, happily tucked into the trees.  Nearly forgotten, but not gone.  I would love to meet someone who grew up in this house. . .


Alternate view of the same house.  Time has moved on–but how much?


I drove by two areas that looked like this next photo.  In places, the land is being stripped of all life.  This particular area looked so thoroughly destroyed that it reminded me of photos of a WWI or Civil War battlefield after the Soldiers and field artillery had made their marks.


This tree caught my eye.  There are many like this when power lines are near; however, nothing was in the vicinity of this tree.