The wasp tolerated me, barely, because, well, we hardly know each other and there I was with my phone practically bumping the flower and the wind coming up and rain beginning to fall. The wasp was so beautiful, looking at it was almost painful. The jogger whose feet are in the photo had just said good morning to me and then she was gone.
The wasp has itself planted firmly on the milkweed. The jogger has her feet planted firmly on the paved road. I was balancing on the mulch, trying not to fall forward, trying to keep my hand still. It wasn't until I saw the photo that I realized the jogger's feet were also in the frame.
So I'm thinking about feet. Where we place them, how we balance, why we put ourselves here or there. There's landing, there's movement, there's a race toward or away from. Where are we going? How will we know when we're there? I guess I don't know the answers to questions like these any more than the next person. What I do know is how lucky I feel to have happened upon the wasp and the jogger out doing their thing.
The wasp has itself planted firmly on the milkweed. The jogger has her feet planted firmly on the paved road. I was balancing on the mulch, trying not to fall forward, trying to keep my hand still. It wasn't until I saw the photo that I realized the jogger's feet were also in the frame.
So I'm thinking about feet. Where we place them, how we balance, why we put ourselves here or there. There's landing, there's movement, there's a race toward or away from. Where are we going? How will we know when we're there? I guess I don't know the answers to questions like these any more than the next person. What I do know is how lucky I feel to have happened upon the wasp and the jogger out doing their thing.
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