When I tell East Coasters that I am originally from Idaho, there are two reactions: “You are the first person I’ve ever met from Idaho.” or “I knew you were from the midwest!" Sometimes it seems like I am the only person from Idaho living in Maine. And thus, I have deemed myself to be an unofficial Idaho Ambassador.
Idaho is a pretty cool state. Actualy, it’s really cool, and it gets better every time I visit. It’s not a midwestern state (those are the other "I” states- Iowa and Indiana). It’s the oddly-shaped one in the Rocky Mountains. Yes, we have potatoes. And alfalfa and horses and cornfields. But we also have mountains that rival the Tetons and a city or two that produce good musicians, artists and food. We have the Broncos and the “smurf-turf”. Best of all, we have natural hotsprings and the friendliest people you’ll ever meet.
I’ve lived in a small collection of states and countries, and I now consider Maine my home. But my connection to Idaho runs deeper than I realized. Last week, I went home to visit my family and for the first time, I decided to document Idaho. As I returned to Maine, I watched the plane take off over clear, high mountain desert and eventually land over foggy, autumn-tinged forests; and I considered how lucky I am to have two beautiful meanings of home.
All images © Greta Rybus