Whilst visiting a house the other day I met a signora who lived next door. She had come to help her husband tend the vegetable patch. Their view stretched away before them towards the mountains. As I took my photographs I watched as they bent together over their work, slowly and skillfully lifting and dropping their hoes, digging their terra. Ottanta! (eighty!), she said with a twinkling smile when I asked her age. La! (over there!), she said, pointing to a house across the field when I asked where she was born. Everything about her brimmed with belonging and timeless tradition, most covetable in this modern world.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
This Modern World
Whilst visiting a house the other day I met a signora who lived next door. She had come to help her husband tend the vegetable patch. Their view stretched away before them towards the mountains. As I took my photographs I watched as they bent together over their work, slowly and skillfully lifting and dropping their hoes, digging their terra. Ottanta! (eighty!), she said with a twinkling smile when I asked her age. La! (over there!), she said, pointing to a house across the field when I asked where she was born. Everything about her brimmed with belonging and timeless tradition, most covetable in this modern world.
