On July 4, 2026, I had the opportunity to visit the newly opened Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library in Medora, North Dakota. Coinciding with its grand opening, the library welcomed visitors from across the country to celebrate both Independence Day and the legacy of one of America's most influential conservationists. Thanks to my work with the U.S. Forest Service over the holiday weekend, patrolling public lands during the opening festivities, I was fortunate enough to experience the library on its opening weekend.

This summer, I had the incredible opportunity to spend two days volunteering with an archaeologist from the U.S. Forest Service in Watford City, North Dakota. Over those two days, we visited several known archaeological sites just north of the North Dakota Badlands, documenting artifacts and learning about the people who once called this landscape home. Some of the sites we visited even contained evidence dating back to Paleoindian times, making the experience feel like stepping directly into the deep history of the Northern Plains.

Our brains handle days, years, and maybe even centuries reasonably well. But once you start talking about millions of years, or comparing ancient civilizations to modern events, our sense of time begins to fall apart. Things we assume existed together often lived worlds apart, while events that feel impossibly distant can be surprisingly close on the grand timeline of history.

When most people imagine space, they picture a vast emptiness dotted with stars and galaxies. In reality, the universe is far more structured than that. Galaxies are not scattered randomly through space. Instead, they form an immense cosmic web made up of filaments, clusters, and enormous empty regions known as voids.

When most people think about ancient civilizations, their minds usually drift toward Egypt, Rome, the Maya, or perhaps Machu Picchu high in the Andes. Rarely does anyone picture the American Midwest.