We tumble out of the car into grey light and heavy air, thick with morning dampness and anticipation. Not three steps across the gravel, her hand wriggles free and she takes flight past the old barn. Today, she knows this place and no fear. And I smile remembering the timid girl of five months before, dodging bees and piddling in my shadow, impatient eyes peering out from her wide-brimmed hat, while her grandmother and I plundered the strawberry patch. Funny…this nearly November morning seems more balmy than that one. My eyes chase her and the ominous billows skating on the horizon. Please, don’t rain. The wind presses again, undressing the old oak. He hurls his cache of acorns, pinging out autumn’s melody in a harsh strain on the tin roof.
>>> Continue on to The Farm, Part 2>>>
I recently began a 365 project – at least one photo a day to record this trip around the sun. This is the first in a series – The Farm – detailing one morning’s adventure.