My husband and I have talked about it before; the idea of moving into a more rural area.

I am a city girl, through and through.  Even when I lived in a smaller town, I almost always lived in the heart of it.  But my husband is a country boy and every time we head south to visit our family – every time I see the windmills off in the distance – something happens to me.  A calm comes over me.  Because life there is just different…people are different…the pace is different.

I photographed Charlene, Tim and their family on a bright, brisk day just before Easter.  The wind blew across the farm fields and the sun hung in the sky almost a full hour longer than it would back home.  The guys threw rocks off the dirt road while Charlene and I talked about life and love and all the spaces in between.  And when the air became too chilly, we headed back to the beautiful Victorian house we get to call our second home.  Together, our two families talked about baking and wood working and books and the many connections that we had in common.

And I guess this is what happens the ‘hustle’ of it all is stripped away; you fall in love with your work…you make beautiful new friends…and you have one more reason to be lured by the windmills.

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