I took this photo while I was driving down a country road in southeastern Iowa a few weeks ago. I drove by and turned around to take this photo because the mailbox looked so much like the one my dad created on our farm so long ago in northwestern Iowa. I’d never see another like it — ever.
I felt as if my dad was riding along with me at that moment. Like we did when I visited in the last years before he died.
He’d tell me to drive somewhere, and he’d recall who used to live on that gravel road. And then I’d turn a corner and ask who lived on the next abandoned farm place — only to find him sleeping.