Kodak Portra 160 film

This is the pier that was owned by Walter Parkinson in Colonial Beach, Virginia, on the Potomac River. In the years of my youth, Mr. Parkinson (not to be confused with my family of origin, the Parkers) ran the Big Dipper charter boat out of Colonial Beach, catering to anglers hoping to catch rockfish and sightseeing tourists. Like most people who live in a tourist town, I never participated in any of the main attractions. I did spend lots of time on the water in our family boat, but it would have been unheard of for a local girl to join in with the tourists and pay to ride on a boat.

When Mr. Parkinson passed away, his wife Alberta kept the business going. I was talking with my sister this morning, reminiscing about growing up in this small town, and she made me laugh with her wish, “We shoulda taken a ride on that boat with Alberta, at least once!”

I am making a home inside myself
where grace blooms in grand and glorious
abundance, a shelter of kindness that grows
all the truest things.

I whisper hallelujah to the friendly
sky. Watch now as I burst into blossom.

—Julia Fehrenbacher, The Most Important Thing

It seems as though some things just take care of themselves. Things I used to worry about I simply don’t have the energy for anymore. And many of the things I though I HAD to do, things I felt bad about not doing . . . well, when I didn’t do them, nothing much happened at all. With all that time freed up, there is more time to for the things I really love. And the people I really love. This is a sweet season of life.

Garden Statuary | Handmade Quilt

The woman garden statuary stands before a shed on Route 1. She is in a yard where a variety of garden statues are sold—deer, little rabbits, roosters and so on. While the other statuary comes and goes, she remains, steadfast and abiding. I have never quite been able to decide if she is a representation of the Virgin Mary or simply a thoughtful woman in the garden. I’ve taken photos of her surrounded by vibrant orange trumpet flowers. And I’ve watched her stand apart from the shed, naked, without ground cover, foliage or flora. But just now, she is surrounded by Queen Anne’s Lace. They wrap around her, looking up toward her like angels or adoring children at a mother’s feet.

The quilt is another Thrift Store find. I’ve hand-quilted many quilts using a tiny needle, called a between, and a sturdy thimble on my finger, rocking stitches one after another, as many as 8 stitches on the needle at once. It’s meditative work. The kind of project where you just show up, over and over and over again, with dedication and faith that one day you will finish and the quilt will be done. Many of the quilts I made took a year or more to finish. Knowing the amount of work and the degree of skill that goes into quilt-making, I could never leave one unloved and unused.

I continue to photograph with film and fall a little more in love with the process every day. I just received word today that my digital camera is repaired and on its way way back to me by mail. It’s been 6 weeks, and now I wonder if I will even want to go back to digital. It’s been a beautiful summer.