Going east on Highway 20. White blotches of snow on chopped trees. Dead wood.

Pickups parked in driveways. Various houses along the road. Shacks and beautiful old farmhouses dot the land. Wires high above. Electric poles passing for crosses. Did they crucify Jesus in the Midwest?

Dollar General store shines like a temple. An old restaurant has a for sale sign on it. Surrounded by bare land and brush. Trees with no leaves. Dead, all is dead. Christmas lights on a shanty home. A barbed wire fence keeps no one out. Ghosts come and go.

Soon, this land will be covered in corn and soy. Gold and green. But for now, it is in mourning.

Aren’t we all?