Holland, MN

The first part of this year has been false Springs, lingering winters & the suspicion that spring may not be staying around this year. My photography output seems to follow the weather. This winter, per usual, saw a major decline in how many rolls I ran through my camera. I ventured into MN and explored the small town of Holland. I actually lived there for a year as a kid. My dad was a pastor and had a small church in town that he was assigned as part of his seminarial internship.  

The streets I used to endlessly navigate on my red & yellow Schwinn now felt tired & forgotten. Main Street had a small general store my sister and I would frequent & buy candy. The semi-rootbeer flavor of "Bottle Caps Candy." A chalky & poor approximate of rootbeer flavor would dissolve in your mouth leaving a pasty & sugary aftertaste in your mouth for hours. Many of the old brick buildings are no longer there. The old bank is now a bar while the old bar is now gone & replaced by a large metal shed. 

While wandering the snowy streets with my camera I couldn't remember where the parsonage was. As a kid the basement of the ranch style house was unfinished. I had a remote control car that I would race around on the smooth basement floor trying to ramp off of books I swiped from a box labeled "office". I also recall one instance when my mom's sister, her husband & my two older (& cooler) cousins were coming to visit from Michigan. I was so excited. I waited by the intersection for an hour on my aforementioned Schwinn. They finally arrived and my uncle said we could race back to the house. Chevy Van vs. my legs. I led the way, pedaling my heart out… It felt like the bumper of his van was bearing down on my rear tire.  I rounded the corner on the curved dirt road and I lost traction and wiped out. My uncle slammed the brakes. As I picked myself up, embarrassed, I confirmed I was ok, swallowed my pride and led them back the rest of the way at a normal pace. I remember feeling really embarrassed. 

The morning photo walk ended by getting yelled at by an old man. He stood on the small snowy deck attached to his double-wide. Suspicious that I was up to no good, his silver hair blew in the chilly wind.  I wished him a good day as he yelled on. I walked four blocks before he stopped & reluctantly went back inside. Like a dog barking off a squirrel.