The storm bears down upon me as I stand transfixed in a patch of fragrant wild sage on the side of a road somewhere deep in Saskatchewan. One road of many that brought us to this moment. Roads dotted with ramshackle and downtrodden towns that belie the names their hopeful forefathers forebode upon them. Leader. Pennant. Success. All of them anything but these days. Yet those who remain, the embodiment of heart and hardy. Foxtail shimmers and ripples in the wind. Lightning illuminates the baby blue structure of the cell. Wisps of lost cloud begins to rotate overhead and despite the fury of what’s transforming all around me, I feel an eerie sense of calm. There’s no where I’d rather be than here.