I’m new here in town. In fact, I’m so new that I haven’t set foot here and never plan to. This is my first visit, sort of. I come to just before the highway exit, missing the sign but feeling the way. Sometimes it’s the Interstate or the Trans-Canada Highway, other times it’s just a single-lane back road, or a lonely truck route through less well-connected scenes. You’ll see the farms first on the way in, trim houses dropped neatly against the vast blank plains and the deep dish sky. Silos and industrial stations tower looming and exposed above a sheer flat expanse. Maybe a painted sign with a unique motto, marking what honestly looks to be the only place on this side of the planet. The horizon circles way out wide, just visible across almost every distant degree. Here in a snow globe at the middle of dry summer. These small towns sediment and settle where the long roads find each other and cross like ribbons tied sparsely across the gigantic corn fields.
Quit Vision 