Dimondale, Michigan in March
If you were to look at me sitting here working right now, you might think I was as peaceful as this shot of the Grand River running through Dimondale in Michigan. This was the main thoroughfare through the land for the European settlers as they found swamp land to drain and trees to clear to create farms in the early 1800s. It was also the main thoroughfare for the Native Americans who found themselves suddenly unwelcome as they wandered through the crops of the white men farmers. I expect this Grand River has seen it all.
I look peaceful, as it does, but I am not; my head is in an absolute spin. Still waters truly do run deep when there’s work to done.
On a point of information, when I took this shot I had just eaten dinner at Mike’s Village Restaurant or some such named place. The homemade bread was amazing, but the waitress was a little scary. When she reeled off the list of fish on the menu my mind melted. I am sure she said catfish at one point. If she had been packing a gun in her leg splint I would not have been surprised. I then went down to an ice-cream parlour that smelled overwhelmingly over deep fried food. (It is at times like these I feel I am strongly channelling the olfactory abilities on my mother’s side.) Not to be diverted, I ordered a black walnut ice-cream, which, when it came, was the size of beach ball on a cornet the size of the actual musical instrument.
To take the shot I had to juggle this monster ice-cream, my slippery phone, and various other items a researcher cannot be without apparently… The ice-cream went in the bin shortly afterwards. I had super-sized just that bit too much.