So. I grew up with one member of this sweet family. She and I went to school together for many, many years — and we sat in many, many classes together. I remember lots about her: she had the best stories about things she did during summers or yearlong trips to far away places; she always read really cool books, and had very hip taste in music, and awesome school supplies (am I remembering funky pencil erasers?); she was very musical; she had a smile for everyone and a contagious laugh. Most of all, I remember her intelligence. Crazy smart. Like crazy.
Fast forward noneofyourbusiness years, and I find myself photographing this longtime friend. I’m in the fields at Spencer-Peirce-Little Farm with her and her beautiful family. There are farm animals to meet, fields to explore, shoes to put on little feet that would rather be barefoot. There is laughter yards away in the tall grass. There are sticks to be used like swords, and brothers to chase, and babies to hold, and dandelions to blow. And all the while, in the midst of the movement and sound, I’m looking through the camera at my friend and marveling to myself at about the passage of time.