September 14, 2007

Beside them danced

Of the sun

As I was driving to the grocery store the other day, I couldn't help but notice how sunflowers seemed to be blooming everywhere, their faces turned toward me in the afternoon light. I love how translucent the petals look that time of day, and I decided to stop along the road near a field of sunflowers, with the idea that I'd take a photo of some sunflowers, like all the other cool bloggers.

But taking a photo of the whole field proved impossible. When I walked up to the flowers, they were way taller than me, swaying above my head. I looked around for something to climb, but all I saw were sunflowers and more sunflowers, and after that, a lawn of grass that stretched to a barn and house. I stepped carefully into the field, turning to weave my body through the tall stalks. I took a few photos, then shoved the camera back into my pocket. When a wind came up, the flowers danced and twirled above my head, throwing shadows onto my arms. I held my hands up and swayed with the sunflowers.

When I walked out of the field and back to my car, I noticed a woman approaching me. She was about my age, dressed much the same as me in jeans and a sweatshirt. I figured she had come from the farmhouse next door and probably owned the field.

"Hey, " I said as she got closer. "I'm just taking some photos."

She gave me a strange look, and I noticed her glancing at my hands.

Was something wrong with my hands? I looked down at them, but they looked the same as they always did. Normal hands. But then in a flash, I figured it out: normal people who stop to take photos usually have cameras. Not for the first time, I wished I had some kind of impressive digital SLR hanging about my neck, instead of this tiny point-and-shoot camera shoved into my jeans pocket.

I dug the camera out of the pocket of my jeans and held it up to her. It didn't look very impressive, but she nodded.

"The sunflowers are beautiful," I said, still hoping to establish myself as a normal person.

She shrugged. "I wondered if you had a flat tire. I was checking to see if you needed help."

"Thanks, but I'm good."

Without another word, she turned and went back toward the house, the afternoon sun catching the auburn glints in her hair as she hurried along. I looked up at the sunflowers, mostly in shadow now, and got back into my car.

11 comments:

Jan said...

You have a gift for capturing beauty in photographs - and in words. You are my inspiration. I drive past a field of sunflowers and think about stopping to take pictures. You actually DO it! I could take a lesson or two from you!

Ianqui said...

Lovely! The backlighting is perfect here.

Unknown said...

Gorgeous photo. Another way to see sunflowers. You get so much out of your camera.

Kyla said...

That really is quite a shot.

Swaying with the sunflowers sounds perfectly lovely.

purpleteardropsofhappilymarriedness said...

Beautiful photo! Oh and thanks, Skitz is really cute for a boy. Its nice to know there are some decent people left that are willing to go "outside" of their house to help a stranger. Still, that seems like a really awkward moment - the telling her you had a camera and then forgetting that it was put away. That's totally something I'd do without paying attention lol.

jayfish said...

excellent photo! i love the backlighting and the way it makes the petals glow.

Hel said...

I love the description of the lady walking back to her house. It says so much without saying anything specific.

Andromeda Jazmon said...

This is a really sad story. That she would come out to see if you needed help, but not understand the urge to see and participate in the beauty... as if the sunflowers weren't reason enough to linger. Maybe she's lived with them too long.

Ampersand said...

It's interesting the different reactions that the camera brings.

Spectacular shot.

purpleteardropsofhappilymarriedness said...

cloudscome - I think that to - thats she's been living by them so long that they've just become a "regular" thing, ya know - when something of beauty becomes "nothing special" because of too much familiarity with the subject - i.e. the sunflowers. It's become nothing out of the ordinary to her. The story's got an over all sad undertone - a sadness eminating from the woman who lived at the house type feel.

Anonymous said...

Ugh, I can't believe you coax those spectacular images from a little digital point-and-shoot! I'm never sure whether I love more the pictures you paint with words, or the way you show your unique perspective with pictures...