Tucked away in a valley along the highway is a grove of trees. I’ve been wanting to try and shoot the grove, because it’s characteristically Nebraska. Back in the old days, trees were primarily found near water. This was the plains afterall and not Michigan. I hopped out of the car and looked for a way to shoot the woods and the dappled light and nothing looked right. So I turned a little to my right and saw the sorghum field between the farmhouse and the trees and the picture fell into place.