The farmer adjusted the brim of his cap, pointing toward the faded blue and white farmhouse nestled atop of the hill. “Rose and Arnold first moved here from Lincoln. In 1913, a tornado completely levelled their first home. Rose never much cared for the area and had been homesick since she left her family home. Arnold went back to Lincoln, measured her parent’s house inch by inch, and then built an exact replica for her on the hill, making sure she was comfortable in her new home.” The porch swing groaned in the breeze. Even though Rose and Arnold have long passed, their farm remains.
Home is where you feel safe enough to reveal your true self. Everything begins and ends in the home; it’s where you raise your children and grow old with your spouse. Like the families who deserted them, each home has a tale to tell and they are all unique. Every loss and triumph is absorbed within the splintered walls. Their gaping windows stare across the countryside searching for their lost residents. Trish Eklund’s personal experiences and the stories of those associated with the locations accompany the author’s enchanting images.