The champagne of beers, motorcycle ride with a prairie wind pushing your ass, corn spores in the air, which can be tasted on my mustache, and the motorcycle, tuned so fine by Harry the master of Zen and the Honda motorcycle. And the kids are searching for night crawlers after a night of soaking the lawn with a hose. And the long haired uncle who doesn't say much but can fish like Nathanael of Cana at the Sea of Tiberias.
To be a photographer...
"The photographer is filled with doubt. Nothing will soothe him."
-- Raymond Depardon
Austin, MN 2009
Nate Howard
Lawn mowers, cut grass, fresh after the storm lightening cracked thunder thumped and a bowl of chicken vegetable soup, home made, with extra pepper and birds singing between storms, with the motorcycle starting without needing to kick start and then the humidity dissipates, and condensation on the Pepsi can, until it's empty and I ride down highway 218 once again.
