Written by Martha Spencer | photo credits: Christopher LeCoq
It is quiet, but it is not total silence. The steady hum of insects of the night buzz like an old television stuck on static of dead air. The air is crisp and damp, and it smells like dead leaves and dirt.
When you’re offshore fishing, the horizon seems untouchable, the vast expanse gives an immediate sense of freedom. I didn’t know another place could duplicate that feeling, until seeing the Prairies of South Dakota.
