They’re called adventures, where the road leads nowhere but to fields and places with good light. And this? This is one of them. Off in the far distance, well beyond the middle distance, where two of Derek’s girls are chasing each other up the path of a sunbeam, there’s a green VW bus that is in every sense the vehicle for adventure—a swipe of dulled green with hubcaps rusted to match the burnt-orange dust of our state’s unpaved roads. However, it’s his girls—Ingrid, 6, Liv, 5, and Greta, 2, who’ve grown up in front of the camera—who stand as the true drivers of adventures. Sometimes they’re unicorns, and sometimes they’re witches, his girls. They’re dressed alike in mustard-colored bows and pink boots and lean out from the sliding door of the old VW, watching the roads unspool just outside the bumper-stickered windows. They’re the heart of adventure, the reason for adventure. As the Harrison-based photographer notes, “I value those little moments and hope they create big memories the girls will recollect later in life.” It’s good advice, and good philosophy. We could all stand to adventure more.