There are few places that soothe me like the high prairie. Each spring my sons and I go there to camp, and always they bring friends. What do we find? A small town with an abandoned Art Deco train station, the kind that makes you want to head for Santa Fe. A swimming hole where I’ve taken friends for 30 years, and which is ringed with watercress. A distant spring that you have to hike to, where when you camp at night you can listen to its rush. Endless hills of bluestem prairie.
There’s nothing much to do out there; it’s just a place of quiet and peace. And that’s pretty much the point.
This shot was taken before Senior Prom, couple of weeks back. My oldest son’s in there somewhere. I’ve known most of these kids since grade school, and have taken many of them on various camping, canoeing, go-cart racing, baseball-playing, downtown exploring, museum-attending, other-region exploring escapades since they were small. Three of them are artists. All of them I have always encouraged to view the world in whatever unique way fits them, and to avoid conformist thought. Their parents have encouraged the same. In my way I love each of these kids. They know it, and we never need to discuss it.
Anyway, I think their smiles tell a pretty good story.