In the pink-ish light of early morning…
After the rain.
After the wind.
After the corn’s harvest.
Past their peak…past their prime…
The trees whisper their stories.
Your Custom Text Here
In the pink-ish light of early morning…
After the rain.
After the wind.
After the corn’s harvest.
Past their peak…past their prime…
The trees whisper their stories.
Maybe - it’s because it’s so everyday ordinary.
A back porch. Two cats. A broom. A pair of old work boots.
Maybe - it’s because it feels like real life.
I wondered about the generations who have lived and loved here.
I wondered about the cats.
I wondered what about it was so captivating.
And then - I just stop wondering - and decided to capture it just as it is.
On any other day - I'd walk right by.
But today -
there was that familiar taste of ivory snow mixed in with bleach
there was a gentle breeze blowing
there was sun peeking
there was the unmistakable sound of spring.