wind...les fées.
I’m diverging from the X-Pro3 path today, to something more immediate.
Cynthia’s dad passed away last June and we finally buried him on Saturday. This might seem like a long wait but he had given his body to science—which, anyone who knew him would’ve agreed was fitting beyond belief. He was an engineer, stubborn and wildly curious until the very end. I can’t even count the number of times we dissected the fabric of our universe, in that small office with its tired BarcaLounger, the smell of pipe permeating the air, glasses hanging from the reading lamp.
He was buried in the old cemetery and we drank bubbly in the cold and crisp November sun; a final toast, because sullenness would not do. But Cynthia’s mom also kept some of his ashes and we scattered them in the woods, just outside their home. Those same woods I’ve walked and photographed a thousand times. He planted each and everyone of those trees you know…that’s why the lines are so straight.
We all return to the world we create.
We all return to the wind.
xx
