That Any Boy

This collection of concrete walls have had a longtime hold on me, foundational remnants of a farmstead once standing on the outskirts of a cattle field. For decades, I’ve paused to wander around them like some accidental playground, walked heel to toe like a kid on a balance beam. Some folks see my work and imagine it’s all about adult motivations — documenting history, the art of photography, efforts of exploration. But those are actually the smallest parts. I’m driven most by the childlike wonder of wandering, climbing trees and hopping rocks across streams. Doing things that any boy would do while running wild. The driving force is largely that, how good it is to feel ageless in the country. How old am I anyway with no one watching? Eight years old or thirty-eight, no matter. Most folks stop having fun long before their body betrays them. I intend to be at play until the forces of age insist that I can’t.

February 12, 2026
Mount Hanley, Nova Scotia

Year 19, Day 6668 of my daily journal.