the old country

When you live in a fairly modern city, simple things rich with patina take on a new meaning. They become romantic and other-wordly. A sign of a simpler time. Our disposable culture becomes self-reflective. You can witness the decomposition of things that would otherwise end up hidden in a landfill. In the country there is plenty of space to just leave an old wagon to rust in a corner of a farm.

You can come across a barn full of books that were abandoned by a young teacher going off to teach on a Canadian air force base in Germany during the war. And there are many other discarded items that have become beautiful over time due to neglect.

Peter and I were both born in Winnipeg and we both left as young children. We have a special connection to the city and the people even though we have never really spent much time there as adults. While I was enjoying the lake country here, Peter flew to Winnipeg to bury his father, and visit his grandmother’s farm in the neighbouring countryside. He rediscovered the beauty of the simple life out in the fields in these photos. I have to say that even though I’m a city girl through and through, the pull of the country draws me in too.


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