As we headed south on I-75 Wednesday morning I was content knowing that I had 2 dozen tamales in the cooler, 4 Family Size (of Better Made chips) in the back of the car and I had just settled into my seat to read the
Detroit Free Press for the last time for who-knows-how-long when, suddenly, I smelled it before I saw it. The Rouge Plant. Southwest Detroit. I knew I had to take a few pictures before it was gone.
The smells of my childhood when the wind was blowing in the right direction. Why did I move to the mountains?
As we headed south on I-75 Wednesday morning I was content knowing that I had 2 dozen tamales in the cooler, 4 Family Size (of Better Made chips) in the back of the car and I had just settled into my seat to read the Detroit Free Press for the last time for who-knows-how-long when, suddenly, I smelled it before I saw it. The Rouge Plant. Southwest Detroit. I knew I had to take a few pictures before it was gone. 
The smells of my childhood when the wind was blowing in the right direction. Why did I move to the mountains? 
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