Sometimes you cross paths with a personality that is as large as the moon. When I took the foto of these flowers, I had no idea how or if I’d use the picture, but it came to me yesterday after looking through my image gallery, I should give this foto to my dear friend Meg. She’s bright, glittery, and always the most interesting person in the room.
First official post for my #blackgirlinbeanboots foto-blog series. And my first time deliberately taking fotos at sunset of the setting sun. So, what do you find on the waterfront at dusk? A whole buncha fotographers (and one painter with canvas) training lens and tripod to the horizon. And there I was, three big flowers, six glitter letters to spell out the word autumn, and my little wristlet camera. Quickly, I’m arranging my shit, hoping something will inspire, nothing. I look at all the real photographers surrounding me, poised and shooting, so cool, and I wonder what they see that I don’t (besides better equipment and expertise). But I have something they don’t: a Photo-Tip-Of-The-Week Facebook group membership I paid $5.00 for and I plan to get my money’s worth and this week’s tip is to shoot the natural light of sunrise and sunset so I am determined, yet minimally skilled picture taker. I think quickly. My props are falling flat. The light is fading, fast. I’m getting cold. Maybe there will be no magic, I think, and my mind drifts to thoughts of fried cod and French fries. I want to go, eat, try this sunset thing again another day. I can just about taste the wine vinegar and tartar sauce on the beer breading when I trip over my untied boot lace and it hits me like a flash. I kick off the boots, toss them on the picnic table, and cram a flower into one boot. I’m staging them to face the water when I notice the warm hue on one side of one boot. I look up and there are pink ribbons unspooling across the sky. How wonderful is that? My wristlet camera and me. Magic.
So if someone asks you what I’m doing with myself these days, how I’m adjusting to the empty nest, tell them I’m standing barefoot on duck-poop covered rocks at the shoreline, tinkering with the golden hour of day. And dreaming of eating fish and chips. ❤
Today is the official start to autumn. It is my favorite season: sweater weather, lover weather, crafting and baking weather, no leg hairs shaved weather, oh damn that heather-pink cast iron Dutch oven is on sale at Williams-Sonoma weather, gather together embossed stationery to write letters to your daughter as little homesick in the dorm weather, the thought of snow seems romantic and frolicking still weather, riding boots and loose-fitting jeans weather, scarves and fingerless gloves (until first freeze) weather, long lines at the organic cooperative market that sells the best ethically-slaughtered fowl weather, character-driven period pieces about love, history, and red bicycles weather, love weather.
When he walks inside after his early morning walk with bright fallen leaves spilling over his hand because he knows how much you love autumn, you steep English Breakfast and listen to the music of horns signaling lobster boats in the distance.
After the first day of classes, I took my daughter to the orchard. This is our new tradition — culling together good eats from the local farms at the start of the school sessions. We discovered the orchard last summer after she moved into the dorms.
She was uneasy: some of her textbooks were on backorder, there was a class she wanted to drop for another, and she had to prepare for a TA role. So I scooped her up and drove to the orchard. She gathered the Zestar, some honey, sharp cheddar, and fudge. But best of all, we sat in the orchard drinking cider slushies, watching a determined chicken find worms, and basking in the setting sun.
How do you respond to back-to-school craziness?