Last night was my last night in Texas. I leave for New York this morning. So, I went out to my step-grandparent’s farm to shoot some photos and take in more of my roots.
This is Jerry’s cabbage patch. He was very excited about it. “I like to have something green growing in the winter-time,” he said. “You just put a little salt on ’em and boil ’em, and they’re good.” Sharon said “Shannon, don’t listen to him. They aren’t good!” But they sure are pretty in the sunset.
This is Jerry’s horse, Hot Rod. Him and King, the other horse, were out licking the salt-block when we drove up. I haven’t been around horses in years. Seeing as I used to spend my every waking-moment with horses, it’s a bit of a sore-spot for me, not being able to ride again. But I stood there and felt every ounce of my first child-hood love.
This tree seems mystical to me. It’s out in the middle of a bunch of cotton fields. Sharon said “That tree is where settlers used to conduct church services, right there underneath. When Jerry and I first got married, it used to be twice as big.” “Now it’s all rotted out,” said Jerry. “It used to have another tree beside it, but it fell years ago.”
Sunset through mesquite trees. Mesquite shows up in my writing a lot. Last night I realized just how much I love it.
Last remnants of the cotton-field after harvest.