This is the part of the farm that belongs to BC. The Southwest corner, half hidden by the workshop, it is where he hoards recycled materials. A boneyard for lumber. So needless to say one might see instantly why it isn't a common backdrop for photos. But this is where I found her tracking a rabbit. Against all warnings barefoot among the thorns & stickers. Wild morning hair- too glued to her new camera to even know I was there watching her.
Part of my heart is sad at seeing this. I believe it is the first real glimpse of the adult she will become. I see her following this passion for photography the rest of her life.
It is inevitable that one day she will salute the judges for the last time. If we are among the lucky we will know when that day will be. See gymnastics, no matter who you are, only lasts so long.
And although, her love of photography sits on the same precarious assumption that gymnastics does: that her sight will hold. The older she gets the smaller the fear that she will not make it on her own falls aside.
She holds her future in her hands. What a glorious picture it makes.
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