Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Waiting For the Rain

        I pass by this house often and  each time I would tell myself I would stop one day and take some photos. Then one almost rainy afternoon when I was in a hurry to get home I passed by to see the azaleas had burst into bloom and made the contrast of old and new so vivid. I stopped. Mr Smith was 76. He posed on the porch of his ramshackle old tin roofed house and spit tobacco and told me stories, he has lived here all his life. He said "Do you like figs? Come back when the figs are ripe and I will let you have some."

Actually I love figs, or as Face Book would say I am in a relationship with figs. So  I unabashedly ( like a two year old) clarified what he meant when he offered figs" I  questioned him, "Mr. Smith do you mean one Fig, or two figs, or enough to make a jar of jelly?" He laughed.
Then he tried to give me a rooster. As he looked off into the clouds from his place on the porch I hollered from where I was snapping shots... "Mr Smith, I am going to call this one "Waiting for the Rain!"

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