Backroads, Pottawattamie County, Iowa. Few things are more relaxing than exploring the backroads of rural Iowa, where antiquity, nature, and modernity all mingle in a slow-paced reverie. There doesn’t have to be any particular start point or end point. Wherever you are, at any given moment, is the destination, and that’s the greatest part. One mile of backroads and one hundred miles cover the same distance. The discovery, the renewal, the awakening, it’s just waiting there, all day long. You’re just along for the ride.
Winter is my favorite time of the year for photography. I was starting to worry that we’d never get any snow this winter, so the snowfall over the past week has been an awesome surprise. This is one of my favorite corn cribs along the backroads east of Council Bluffs. Thanks for all the support in 2015. Have a very Happy New Year!
My apologies for the absence. My computer has been ill, but hopefully it's fully recovered. This was taken on a farm here in Council Bluffs during sunrise. River valley fog meets first light. For me, it really doesn't get much better than this.
On the backroads just outside Council Bluffs. A farmer in a pickup truck drove by and waved right before I took this, kicking up a temporary storm of gravel dust, which wafted through the background. Nice guy. Not a bad way to start the day.
Along a gravel backroad on the eastern edge of Council Bluffs. This is one of my favorite roadside barns, and I visit it often during my sunrise roadtrips of local discovery, just to see how first light is treating it. This particular photo was taken a few weeks ago, on a cold clear morning a couple of days after our most recent heavy snowfall, as the rising sun and morning fog quietly battled amid the otherwise amazing peacefulness of cropland in winter.
Earlier this week, my buddy Daniel and I took our cameras on a quick and dirty whirlwind tour of rural Nebraska en route to Toadstool Geologic Park right outside the town of Crawford, Nebraska, in the extreme northwest corner of the state. I've wanted to visit the park for a good long while now, and it was everything I had hoped for and more. Much of the excursion was through Nebraska’s Sandhills, whose ramshackle towns are full of weathered character and characters. It was rural Americana at its finest. Below is one of the many abandoned schools, barns, houses, and other structures that sit forgotten along that route, left to slowly succumb to the merciless wind, sun, and dust. I could have spent weeks exploring every hamlet, homestead, and gravel road in the Sandhills, but as is the case with most road trips, there’s just never enough time to see all I want to see.
Stay tuned for more photographs from the trip. I have many.