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.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
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.
