Gep and Kat left yesterday morning, taking with them a piece of my heart, leaving behind a hollow. I miss their company, I miss laughing with them. But I have the memories of their visit, and the knowledge they will return.
Before they left, however, we had our photographic adventure, leaving the wheat field for a local graveyard. A graveyard, you say? Yes, indeed, because the Gep wanted to play around with some “spooky” effects, and Kat is always ready to be his model. What he wanted is like this (one of the photos he took that evening and edited):
My job as holder of remote flash continued, and while he set up or between times, I took a few pictures too.
Kat patiently waiting. We went on fewer adventures than we’d thought about doing because we found we were content in one another’s company, trying to keep cool in the unusually hot temperatures, playing Words With Friends, short evening walks, talking, laughing, watching documentaries – because Gep is a documentary fan and we found we enjoyed them too.
The graveyard is for the local Indian tribe, and I suspect this is an Indian amulet of some kind. It brought to me the realization that surviving loved ones remembered still those who were no longer physically with them. The evening light striking it made it gleam – so appropriate, I thought. The graveyard is quite overgrown with native vegetation – weeds, scrub, some shrubs that may have been planted by family members.
As the sun set, Gep took pictures. We chattered, we laughed, we enjoyed. We swatted mosquitoes, we lamented the number of gravestones for babies and very young children. We applauded those that lived long lives.
A scraggly tree, one that fit so well the Tim Burton/Halloween mood Gep was going for.
The sun setting over the hills, spreading it’s golden glow around. A day closing on lives that were already closed. A day closing on the three of us, basking and pleasuring in our lives continuing.
To the west, the sun slides behind the hills.
A pitchfork stuck into the ground. Laying next to it was a shovel. For weeding, or?
There was a spider weaving his web between these two strings, but my flash caught mainly the shine of the – chimes? – and the growing darkness.
Our mission accomplished, we headed home, but not before I took a few more photos which I will share another day.