Back in December 2025

A quick Christmas jaunt to the Amana Colonies

When I was back in Iowa for Christmas, I realized I’ve lived outside the state for almost as long as I've lived within it.

I appreciate that my parents still live in my childhood home, so I still have a physical anchor to a different time. Every year, I return to this space, and every year, the perspective shifts. I enjoy the visit, but the pull to stay has somewhat faded.

These images, however, are glimpses of that anchor. It will always be home.

This specific area is still, today, owned and managed by the Amana Society, a community rooted in a 19th-century communal German heritage. Despite the commune's dissolution in the 1930s, the ethics remain among the seven villages. The horizon is flat, but the landscape is stoic. It reflects the philosophy of the people in the Amanas, which is also representative of the entire area I grew up in.

Iowa winters are stark, cold, and biting. It’s not easy living, part of why I don’t want to live here anymore. But I’m still fascinated by the serenity of it. These aren’t my typical “pretty” pictures. I wanted a record of something I used to know, a landscape that feels old, worn, and maybe a bit forgotten.

Visiting has recently become a way to recalibrate. It’s the baseline I use to measure how much I’ve changed since I left. It’s a lovely place to visit, but it’s no longer the place I belong.

For those of you who moved away, have you hit that threshold yet? Does the anchor feel different once the math flips?

Cheers.