MOON OVER CORN RIVER

Sunday, September 30, 2012.  Abundant, ripe, golden beneath the rising moon, the river of corn stretches to the horizon and beyond.  It has feed mankind for millennia, and others before then.  It flows down, halting at the bank of green, pausing its rush over the field.  The moon seems so far away, beyond the trees, beyond the rise, beyond my ken, but within the boundaries of my thoughts.

Corn and Girls

September 3, 2009. I’m missing home just now. Girls and Corn 2009. The black earth farmed by my sister and her family, beneath the feet of her sandled granddaughters, reminds me of barefoot summers, running through the yard and pastures. The green of the corn, higher than the 4th of July, against the brilliant blue of a Minnesota sky (you don’t see it here). Their eyes focused out to the woman behind the camera, as ours would have been, to the one we love.