We never quite made it to the actual village of St. Front, so I still haven't seen it.
But we did drive past this churchyard out in the country. There were no tracks around it.
Scanning the land this way made me realize just how vast it is and how many places a person could be and how difficult it could be to find you if you had gotten off the beaten track.
We had to stick to the roads, but we stopped to look closely at any empty or unoccupied farmyards where a half-ton could've driven in and gotten stuck. Scott would put the truck into park, walk into the yard, and be on his way back before I'd gotten my coat on and gotten halfway down the driveway myself.
Finally, somewhere up by Spalding, we had to give up and come home after one last foray into a treed farmyard where no one lives anymore:
That is so awful about Mike, poor old man. Loved your post about Emil, he is so lucky to have such an understanding mother.
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I don't think of Mike as an old man; he is too robust and full of twinkly-eyed enthusiasm for life. This recent turn of events is particularly poignant when one reads his article for the Wadena News after he was "lost" one night this past fall. See http://wadenanews.ca/?p=3801.
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