I love sunflowers! Doesn't everyone? They are pretty, dramatic, and as I told a friend of my on the phone back in the states yesterday...I prefer to use sunflower oil in my cooking.
I used to be able to look out my window and see Monsieur Faret's fields of sunflowers across the river, but he hasn't planted them in years.
It's no wonder that I dropped my backpack for those that were growing in the Gentou's field on my way home from the bus over the weekend.
Yesterday morning, I rode my bike to the bottle bin and brought my camera along. I'd intended to get some more sunflower shots, which I did.
But, yesterday it was the vegetables that grabbed me. They were lush, colorful, beautiful, huge, and screamed: "don't forget about us, look how beautiful we are!"
A little apero-ed up and very much in my photographer mode at a village fete one evening; I ran around and asked all the farmers if they minded if I came by and took photos of their places. At the time, I had their homes in mind, not necessarily their fields. (I didn't feel I needed permission to take photos of a field!) There was one interesting response. Someone said: "It isn't very beautiful. I don't know why you'd want to take photos, but it's okay with me!"
I'm not sure if the response daunted me a bit, or I just ran out of time; but I didn't get back to take any shots (even after all the exertion in French).
I'm still struck by how familiarity breeds an inability to see beyond the everyday, to the beauty and uniqueness of all the small pieces in our lives. We take so much for granted. I struggle with it so in New Orleans. But then when I'm here, it's the small and simple discoveries that give me huge joy!
And the corn said: "Aren't I something...look at me!"
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