gibbous moon
Things going down in the life of this corn. Planted in May. Time renders everything a mortality meditation. W.H. Rehnquist, a couple of hundred soldiers. New Orleans under water, dead patients in hospital. One Candidate out with a fractured pelvis, the other daughter signing up.
Yes yes, life in its glorious color, starts out green, goes to gray. Now different than the longest day, waiting for the reaper.
Where are they now? The corn trio, the valiant plants on the edge.
The edge was good at the beginning, more sunlight. The edge is later not such a good thing. The plants on the perimeter are the first to get fall prey to deer and racoons, first to be harvested.
The edge is risky; ask New York, ask New Orleans ask San Francisco.
posted by emory at 12:09 AM
4 Comments:
I much admire the nearly black and whiteness of your desaturated colors, and the poetry that goes with them.
Michael- sometimes I do desaturate but not in this case, those are the colors the camera recorded...
Great photos..I'm in awe.
I like your cornstalk metaphor, too.
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