These images are the winter landscape of the North Dakota plains from above. I grew up looking out of the windows of my dad’s airplane, a single prop would take us away for Christmas out of thatgodforsakenhellholeofacountry to somewhere warm for a couple of weeks. Even now, returning home it is the grids that wrap around me with a familiarity that includes driving into and around those fields in the fall and summer, delivering sandwiches to the men working or shuffling trucks from one field to another. Grids. North Dakota lines of intent.