Yesterday evening I slid on my old, trusty, cracked sandals and took a walk from home, around the back of the church, down to the creek and back home again – all to clear my mouldy lungs in the bracing just-above-freezing-point Autumnal air – fairly gulping in the golden, pink-tinged, flame-red exquisiteness that is Fall … its brilliance in stark contrast to the pallid, hoary winter hiding just out of reach; a frozen finger-tip away.
So, what’s the story with the previous photo, you may ask. The other day, while walking home I decided to stop to speak to a neighbour:
I say, “Hi, I wonder if I might borrow your daughter one afternoon this week.” (Yes, I do know them, don’t worry. It’s not just some random neighbour.)
“Sure,” she says, “what for?”
“Well, I would like to do a photo shoot with her and one of her friends.”
“Great, of what?” she asks.
“Well, I want to do a series of trick photography of headless children in the playpark. It will look really cool!” I say.
Her 9-year-old, who has been listening to the whole conversation, then chimes in: “Mom, that sounds so fun! We can invite A. She already knows Robin so she won’t think it’s weird.”
But I think it’s weird!!! her mom replies …