From Old World Beauty to Bedroom Community
By Rachel Gattuso
The morning is so cold I see vapors rising from an irrigation creek on my left as I drive through Filer on my way to Twin Falls. Though the sun rose thirty minutes ago, the clouds shroud direct sunlight. A line of trees leading to a house approaches on the right and the veiled sunlight casts eerie, frozen rays through the bare, dark branches. Like I do every time I drive by this hauntingly beautiful scene, I chastise myself for not bringing a camera.