Jim and I went to P-Town last year. We shared a house with a few friends and the biggest decision of the day was how many scoops of ice cream to eat. We walked the strip over and over, legs tired each night, ready to drop our butts down to dinner. One day we walked the beach to town and found a little crab. We carried him to lunch in an empty clamshell. We named the shell Harold. Harold made it back to Chicago with us and now sits on the dresser in our bedroom. The crab we set free in MA.
This was one of those unexpected perfect summer days. We wandered around the falls, and down the river. The park was bustling with visitors and picture takers, but we managed to find secluded nooks to take a few shots ourselves. Jim is always a good sport, humoring my ideas. By the time we left, we were covered in dirt from leaning on rocks and climbing down bank. After this we went to a BBQ, dirty and musky, but we didn't mind. We printed the photo of the falls as big as we could, and now it hangs above the fireplace. Not only is it a reminder of that wonderful day but of MN. It's important to me that our home show images from where we are, and where we came.