I’ve had the itch to come home and be around the things that call me to shoot. I asked Casey to convince me to make the drive so that we could collaborate as an exercise.
“I’m leaving work at 3:30” turned into “I’m just now leaving at 4:45.”
Then I had to swap cars.
Then my tank was empty.
Then a lady asked me how to pump gas.
Then I couldn’t get across the highway because it was rush hour.
Despite all of this, I corralled the dogs, grabbed my equipment, and actually made the drive.
Then someone called me, and I had to sit at the end of the driveway as not to lose reception.
But then I pulled up to the house. I caught up with my mom, who says that my shoes have been appearing in my bedroom despite my not being around since early summer. Welcome home.
We were already chasing daylight, so we headed over to the farm.
We started shooting too late, but dusk is my favorite time of day. Everything gets softer, more muted. There is a sleepy tension and reminder of how little time there ever is. I have the urge to curl up and let the night cover me, but then an unease. My ancient brain won’t let me forget that things hunt at night.
We shot a little, I snagged a magnolia seed pod, and we halfway dog sat while trying to take photographs at slower shutter speeds. Most of these images won’t amount to much; the dim light kept me from being able to see whether or not anything was in focus, but I don’t mind terribly. This was an exercise. I came out to the place that created me, spent some time, and shot something for fun - not because it was a job or an assignment, and that was nice in itself.