Terracotta | Pumpkins
I spent the morning in gardens and fields, shoes muddy, knees damp.
I vowed no more pumpkin pictures and then changed my mind when I saw the field of less-than-perfect pumpkins.
Walking around the gardens, I couldn’t see anything differently. Finally I asked the gardener if I could walk inside the shed and there they were. Terracotta pots stacked, bathed in a swath of light in the dark shed, waiting for me.
There is a universal truth that we suddenly experience clarifying gratitude when we realize that the things and people we love may be taken away at any time. More and more, I see that documenting my home is fraught with suspicion. The days of freely taking pictures seem long gone. I always ask for permission. I choose carefully where I aim my camera. But in this field, in this garden, I am welcome and photography is encouraged. I feel the freedom of full expression.
Even if if the day comes where this hobby is set aside for one reason or another, the carousel of slides in my mind will comfort me.