I’ve been driving past this house for a while. I don’t know about you, but I’m always seeing something while I’m driving, but I’m too lazy/in a rush/don’t have my camera to pull the car over. Today, I pulled it over, jumped over a frozen ditch, picked my way over a huge dirt pile, and took some very quick shots in the razor sharp prairie wind. My prevailing thought was “poor shoe choice”. Ballet flats from work aren’t exactly great for 20 degree mudpie hopping.
The farmer who owns the land has been razing all the trees, which is so sad. This house is so similar to the house I grew up in. It’s sort of haunting to me that it’s falling in so terribly.