I snapped a couple of other portraits at my Mom’s on Sunday and thought I would share the family members who have replaced all of us children at home. It seems there is not much I won’t take a picture of these days, but pets, my goodness, they are a challenge.
James. He was my brother’s cat, who moved in with my parents when my brother graduated from college this year. He is a very handsome cat and I love to follow him with the camera. He has taken over the household in the little time he has been there. When I walked through the door Sunday he was stretched out on a rug in front of the woodstove.
This is Elijah, though we all call him Eli. He is one gigantic German Shepherd. I have never cared for German Shepherds since I was bitten by one as a child, but Eli changed my mind about them. Since he was a puppy he could bowl you over. He just leans on you and you kind of fall over. He’s a big baby though, and very fond of my girls since we lived with him for a little while last year while this house was being built.
So, how come my own pets are never so well behaved when I have the camera? A few comments and photos from the environmental portraits project reminded me how integral our pets are as members of our families.
I shot portraits of my parents today. Sometimes faces aren’t necessary.
This weeks challenge was to capture five family members or co-workers including yourself from an environmental standpoint. I chose my five most immediate members, my children and my grandparents. For the list of who is involved visit here.
This is the view from her kitchen window. Preparing food, cooking, cleaning up. That window viewed directly out this window, is one of my kitchen windows. I consider myself blessed beyond measure to see her through my window. One night I caught my Grandfather kissing her in this window, they will celebrate their 64th wedding anniversary in a couple of weeks.
This photo is a few months old, I wrote about it here. This is his favorite tractor, a gift from my Grandmother. He is always busy, always doing something about the place. Not sure what he would do without this machine to help him do all the things that must be done. And he seems to have everything you might ever need in his garage.
This is Bear. He was hers before she was born. She cannot sleep without him. He travels with us and occasionally goes on day excursions. Notice the underwear on the bed. She never puts away her socks and underwear. She leaves them everywhere even hiding them in drawers rather than putting them in the hamper.
Has a two books in the bed rule. How many times have I said, “Ems, you don’t NEED more than two books in your bed at a time“, yet somehow I have a hard time enforcing this rule. Her teacher told me she is the only student in the class allowed to have three books in her desk at a time because “she actually is reading them all“, she said in amazement.
After some thought, this one sums me up. My mind swimming in the thoughts of 1,000 projects and recipes. As hard as I attempt to organize myself, everything remains, half complete.
Thanks D. for prodding me to go outside between the rain and the fog.
I don’t think I could live in a place where there were no distinct changes to the seasons. For those that work the land or those that live their lives attuned to nature, the seasons present a way of marking your life. Spring is a time of freshness and renewal. Summer brings the growing, the caring, long days to wander and explore. Fall is the harvest, the winding down of busy summer, the turning inward and for me has always seemed to be nesting time, tucking in the house for winter. Winter is the time of rest (though it certainly never feels it), staying inside, finding projects to do in the warmth of home.
I am further amazed at the wonder I find in each of the changing seasons. Saturday I stood in the back lot and took in the changing landscape. We have been in this place one full year now, one cycle of the seasons. Where I stood last winter and saw naked trees and snow falling, became green shoots and bursting buds, through the warmth of summer and sunlight streaming through the trees. Now I find if I stop I smell woodsmoke wafting from the neighbor’s house, hear geese flying overhead, feel the crispness in the air and see the place around me mix in shades of brown.
It’s a wonder to behold. One I treasure, the miraculousness of this life. That when I tire of the everyday, it will all change and rearrange and present itself in another beautiful arrangement. A kaleidescope if you will, each turn bringing another deep joyful sigh.
Creating these visual quilts seems to be a little addictive.