Rain falls like a veil over this land, sheets of silver pouring from a humid sky. The greenery is explosive; flowers blossom wildly along roadsides and in the crevices of forest thickets. We live alongside a calm and gentle sea, its grey waters every slowly rolling in the distance, or quietly lapping on the shore. I wake up shortly after dawn and run along the coast, drinking the moist summer air and feelings its warmth on my skin. This place exudes a subtle, quiet magic.
One evening Katie and I walk to the clay cliffs together, venturing to secret riverbeds with their swirling eddies and yellow blossomed shores. We wander to the seaside, lilacs in hand, sharing stories and inhaling the aroma of the flowers. The sky above progresses through every color of the rainbow until finally Venus glitters above the hills and it’s time to go.
That is the first night I see the fireflies and it is as if the stars themselves have descended among us to grace our existence with the miracle of their light. I do not know this summer world, but I dance through it with the wonder of a child, wide-eyed and wonder-stricken.
On Sunday morning there is a pancake breakfast we all cluster around the table with lawn chairs and pile berries into the batter.
Katie totally dominating the kitchen, with phenomenal success.
Katie’s “No one says ‘no’ to this” button
One day a giant 4×5 camera arrives in the mail and Spencer drives me to the bay to learn it. It is more difficult than anything I have used; it is with considerable uncertainty that I eventually deem a scene composed and in focus, draw out the dark slide, and make a first exposure with a soft and anticlimactic click. I am intimidated but I remember my first terrified attempts with a Hasselblad and I know, this is going to be a good thing.