Another quiet scene. Every few hours I pass another car and occasionally a farmer stops to talk to me as I shoot. It can be interesting. I wonder how the time passes out here where it is necessary to be so self-reliant. Town is far away and so are the neighbors. “How did you meet your wife”, I asked John, an eighty five-year-old who occasionally drives his wife to Seattle for a chance to eat at a “fancy place”. John is out driving on this little road in his beater of a truck. He met his “sweetheart” when they were just kids; when her father abandoned his farm in Oklahoma during the dustbowl to find work in the west. As I drive, I can’t stop thinking about how it must have been in the 1930’s for these farmers. There is the physical place, so haunting and sweetly beautiful and now the story of John’s family that lives in this photograph.