In Kansas, one may occasionally see the road signs indicating a horse and buggy crosswalk. I thought it was a joke the first time I saw it, but came to realize this wasn’t the case, it was for the Amish/Mennonite communities throughout Kansas.

I had time last night to go explore more, and found myself in the Amish community of Yoder. As I pulled off the highway, I see two young children on bicycles, normal to the layperson’s eye except for their dress; homemade Amish style clothing, complete with cloth caps. They paid me no mind, rode off into the countryside, and disappeared.

The dirt road of Main Street was empty, store fronts showing old antique toys, a 1900’s bank with a safe in the lobby, mercantile shops with homemade clothing and quilts.

A cemetery next to their church, with a smattering of headstones. Upon closer observation, I see the same names repeatedly…Miller…Yoder…Notagsk….Yutzy…

In the openness of America’s midwest, upon the plains that feed the inhabitants of our country, I glimpse into a slice of life that still holds much mystery and wonder….

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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