My drive to school is peaceful.

A winding country road, the rolling farmland that flanks both sides is occasionally interrupted by the odd house or small lake.

And then a junkyard. A beautiful junkyard with a fence made of old pallets. Too much to be contained the junk has spilled over to the other side of the road as well. One side has old rusting cars and farm equipment. There’s a shell of a bus that looks like it gave its last ride in the sixty’s. More pallets than I can count form a geometric mountain in the distance. A surreal image, pallets piled up on the edge of a peaceful lake. The other side of the street seems to be where the junkyard began. Its a hodge podge mix of twisted rusted metal. The colors are dull and beautiful. In between piles of deteriorating machinery sheep chew on bits of grass.

I want to wander this junkyard. I want to photograph the beauty in this mix of nature and discarded pieces. I don’t know what it’s story will be but I want to know it. The large private property signs have kept me at bay.

My second semester after returning to school I took a photojournalism class. This class gave me the permission I was looking for. I was always curious, but never nosey. I learned that being nosey is ok. Poke that big ol schnoz in there! Find the owner and ask for permission!

Only I haven’t. I still drive by and look for the truck along the road that signifies someone is there, even though I know I don’t have time to stop and talk. I have lost the drive to make it happen, although I still have the desire.

Then media writing happened. The class that briefly covers the basics of a wide range of writing and reporting styles including photojournalism. The parameters of the class only allow for campus related subjects to be covered so this was not my excuse to finally stop and shoot this obsession of mine. The assignment was like a mosquito bite that left me with a fresh itch.

It is still an I will; soon it’ll be an I did.