My version of poetry

We decided to spend the late morning going to tag sales. This is my mother's passion, and I enjoy it once in a while as well. We finally had a beautiful summer day, and I enjoyed just driving through the country side looking for the signs on the side of the road.



Somehow we ended up way out in the boonies. I'm talking old school New England colonial backwoods, with horses and stone walls. That is where we found an estate sale on a property that was incredible. The adult children were helping their parents clear out the many buildings as the property had already been sold. I can only guesstimate that it went in the millions.



My mother walked around finding things to buy, while I walked the property taking pictures. Afterward, I tried explaining the pictures I had taken to my mother. I told her how I had seen things that I HAD to take pictures of, in between the green of the leaves and the trees and the stone walls and the dappled sunlight.



My mother was trying hard to understand me, I was so grateful. She told me that the words I used to describe what I was taking pictures of sounded like poetry. "Momma", I said, "they looked like poetry to me". I had no other way to explain what I was trying to do. She understood that a picture is worth a thousand words.

We had a moment there, and it was almost as beautiful to me as the pictures in my mind. I don't know if the pictures in real life capture it, but here they are.