Today's road trip

I've decided that I have a fascination with the old mills in North Dakota. I have always been in love with the history buildings hold, especially abandoned buildings. Yet, until very recently (and now in this blog post), I have not shared this fact with anyone. I have no idea why. It has always been a treasure that I've cherished all to myself. For some reason, it's an intimate secret that I enjoy holding on to. What's more interesting, I really do not have much interest in history at all. So why the untold story of an old building? Perhaps because it stands untold?

In Wisconsin, I cherish old barns. In North Dakota, mills. Universally (thus far), houses-- especially if there's till a standing outhouse.


We found this beautiful little town today. I was awe-stricken by it. I felt like I should be with my grandparents, maybe my brother. We pulled into town and every element I saw made me think of my family-- announcer's box, tavern (where you can't-- believe it or not --get a good bar burger), cafe, playground, hard work, dirt, old cars, gravel roads, fellowship and an everyone-knows-who-you-are unity...

We went into the cafe and were instantly sized up (who-the-heck-are-you?! and you're-early-for-lunch-don't-you-know..but-we'll-welcome-you-none-the-less). It was 11:53am and we were definitely not people they knew. Yet somehow we held ourselves in a way where we fit right in. We held our heads just right, our stances showed hard work and time spent learning hard work. We were quick to smile and found a friendliness within us easily. Well, this is what I saw from my own eyes, through lenses of memory, at least.

11:57am came and in came an older gentelman who walked like my grandpa used to walk before his knee replacement. He stared us down with that known, 'you're a new face' gaze, and was greeted warm heartedly by the women behind the counter. "You're early today."

12 noon hit the clock and I waited for the siren to announce the time. When it didn't, I remembered where I was. Although this felt a lot like home, it wasn't the same home I had known growing up in. The train and the mill and the signs of work and laughter were there, but the siren didn't signal 12 noon, dinner time, in this town. That didn't stop the people comin' though. In then came a young fellow and I swore for a second that he was my brother's twin. Closer look told me otherwise, but I appreciated his easy nature and his dark eyes.

I enjoy allowing myself to get wrapped up in the stories buildings and little towns give their viewers. All it needs is someone to come and take a look into it's past; it'll share if you let it.

We only took a peek into the heart of the town today. I'll have to go back on my own sometime. It's a beautiful little place, one which my camera is calling out for me to click some more photos of.