and then she was 8.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Four of us had the best intentions of climbing to the top of the waterfall, but only two of us actually did it. Neve and I pretended that there were better things to do at the halfway point (like catch our breath), so we went exploring on our own. We found an old car in the woods that appeared to have tumbled down the ravine, we made up stories about what may have happened that day (the result of a night of moonshine maybe?), and we collected the loveliest orange leaves.
When Terry and Fiona returned, we insisted on driving up to the spot from which they had just come. We all enjoyed the overlook together, but two of us were a bit more tired than the others.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
6:00pm on the Beltline with my family.
The girls are always together but away from us. They are either running way ahead, yelling for us to hurry and catch up with them, or they're a quarter of a mile behind us, wrapped up in the investigation of every stick and rock along the way.
Terry and I cradle our coffee cups as we walk slowly, watching everyone around us move much faster in their exercise clothes or on things with wheels, in helmets.
The boys on skateboards dip in and out of sight in the distance.
A lost goose honks in search of his family, moving off the trail as he sees people hurtling towards him.
The girls excitedly stop in front of their newest crusade, pleading for us to take the lost goose home.
In the midst of their appeals, he takes off and flies right into the side of a scared jogger's head.
Everyone around us stops in silence, momentarily shocked and disoriented for the jogger and the goose.
The two seem to shake it off quickly, continuing on their way home.
The sun sets and the smell of barbecued meat tease us as we pile into the car.
Promises to do this every night until Winter arrives are made.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
October insists on weekend adventures.
We oblige it's demands with pumpkins, blankets, black walnuts, apple cider & muscadine slushies, hayrides and mountain vistas, friends, family, and a nighttime fire.
I couldn't decide between these two photos this week.
The one where she's inspecting a black walnut on a hayride, arm thread through her father's, was my initial favorite. It's candid, and it's so her... lost in thought, pressed up against her favorite man, her little face always hiding behind that hair. She is the child that resists the camera, that looks away when she knows others are looking at her. This photo project has proven to be wonderful, but a constant challenge when trying to capture the girl behind the bangs.
The other photo is not really her at all. The contrapposto pose, hand on hip, staged in front of the sign we found in the woods would give the impression that this child is sassy and precocious. And she's not. But I chose it because it was her idea. All the way down to the suspenders. As though drinking a magical apple cider tenacity slushie, she walked over to the sign and said, "this should be your photo this week", and struck a pose.
And who am I to say no?
I love that this season brings out the best in all of us, contradictions and all.