My roots are in the quiet streets and wide-open spaces of the prairie community of Somerset, Manitoba. My hometown was a road-hockey-till-the-streetlights-came-on kind of place where life shifted between the local café in the afternoons and the rink on the winter evenings.  On the days without snow, we spent most of our free time outside exploring the gravel roads on our single-gear bikes or playing scrub ball at the school diamond.   

In many ways, it was a childhood paradise. 

But it was also an everyone-knows-everyone town where life moved at an unhurried pace.  Or so it seemed to my restless teenage-self who wanted something more.  I think that is why I was so eager to leave for the big city.  I envied the vibrant hustle and bustle, the energy and constant motion. 

When I moved to Winnipeg for university, I quickly realized the city was noisy, crowded, and in many ways more isolating than the rural life I had left behind. Sure, it had its perks with its endless entertainment and social opportunities. But it lacked the charm of a simple prairie existence.  So, after I graduated with my education degree, I returned home. 

Settling into rural life as an adult, I quickly realized how far we were from everything essential, and I began to resent the time spent behind the wheel.  Thirty-five minutes to and from work. At least an hour for any post-secondary studies. Countless kilometers to not so neighbouring hockey rinks.  A three-hour round trip to the city. Life often felt like an endless stretch of pothole-ridden highway, and driving became a necessary evil. Simply a means to an end. Rural life was not quite the paradise I remembered. 

Then two things happened that changed my perspective.  

First, I bought my first real camera, a Nikon D90 with all its DSLR, 12.3 megapixel amazingness.  Second, I stepped away from my career as a teacher to farm full-time.

Suddenly, every drive down the dusty roads leading to our fields became an opportunity to capture the incredible beauty of the place I call home.  From our world-renowned sunsets to the rolling landscapes of the Pembina Valley, and the unexpected wildlife encounters along the way, my sense of small-town adventure returned with every click of the shutter and every kilometer travelled. 

What once felt like wasted time on the road became the catalyst that sparked my passion for photography.  And somewhere along these gravel roads, between open fields and fading light, I discovered the photographer I am today.