There’s something both grounding and surreal about standing in the midst of an abandoned quarry and gravel plant, a place shaped by machines long stilled and forgotten in time. While the location itself may not have been the grandest or most visually dramatic, it held an undeniable charm. And for me, this particular trip took on a much deeper significance—one that grew not from the surroundings but from the company of my adopted daughter, Makayla, and her new husband, Jacob.
An abandoned quarry isn’t like those sites that are polished and curated for visitors. It’s raw and unrefined—a remnant of human ambition left to meld with nature. The remnants of gravel piles and crumbling machinery buildings add an eerie allure. But in truth, it’s not the kind of setting that will take your breath away. However, when you’re accompanied by people who mean the world to you, the overlooked or forgotten becomes memorable in ways you don’t expect. I found myself watching the way Makayla’s eyes took in the landscape with a sort of poetic curiosity, and how Jacob stood protectively beside her, their laughter echoing in a way that made the quarry feel more alive than I could have imagined.
Perhaps it was the contrast between the industrial remnants around us and the newness of their relationship that made everything feel so poignant. Here we were, surrounded by rust and rubble—yet I was witnessing the future in their shared glances, subtle gestures, and moments of unspoken understanding. Makayla, whom I raised as my own daughter, whose life and journey have added such profound meaning to mine, and Jacob, a man who clearly adores her, brought a sense of warmth and life to a cold and forgotten place. It was a vivid reminder that our surroundings mean so much less than the people we choose to experience them with.
In the end, what matters most isn’t where you go but who you’re with—and how even the most unlikely settings can become something special, simply because you’re there together.
October 2024
