That’s my Grandfather in the center of the picture….Nels Rorvig.
I’d set the pictures aside….but found the thumb drive that they were all on while I was cleaning up my desk.
I suspect that a guy came out with a big camera on a tripod….pulled a black shroud over his head in the North Dakota sunshine…and took this picture a long time ago.
What? The early 1900’s?
Probably the early 1900’s.
Back then, it was a giant camera taking a picture of a bunch of guys out in the field.
Now, I have a kazillion pictures on a thumb drive that I set aside and find later.
That’s where we came from.
My Dad grew up on farms…Montana….Idaho.
That place is where we came from.
Now, I guess that I came from the suburbs….California…Washington….Atlanta….even New Jersey for a couple of years (that part makes me a Yankee, somehow)….but my roots are really up in the Pacific Northwest.
My kids will be most likely to say that they come from the Carolinas….and that’s OK.
The Carolinas are nice.
All these different places….but my family is the constant.
My family that I grew up with…and my family that Jenny and I made together.
Wherever we are, that’s home.
Funny….out of all the places that I’ve lived or been, where they are is my home.
That’s a nice thing to know.
“journey home” Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet