I’m not really sure who this is, possibly my great grandpa on my mother’s side, but the photo has been around forever. I scanned it along with all the other older family photos my mother had a few years ago and came across it again today. It doesn’t matter who it is because I never met him, but this photo says a lot to me about where I come from I suppose. My family were pretty early settlers in north Idaho, where I imagine this was taken, some of them accidental explorers, all of them probably farmers, but this guy… this guy stands out. I imagine he was a simple man who rarely spoke and was not affectionate with his kids, but he loved his horses and simple life.
The Last Real CowboyPosted on January 23, 2015
I have been buried deep in the grains of photography since I was a teenager, enthralled by nature and the details of life, desolated places, abandoned buildings and strange creatures. I started to travel in 2005, more and more until I was doing it full time, starting with a two week trip to Argentina that inspired me to move there for a year. From 2009 to 2018, 9 years, we traveled the U.S in an RV, working on our computers during the week and seeing everything we could on the weekends.