A long time ago, I met a step uncle, now dead, whose hobby was photography.
I wish now I had paid attention when he explained the f-stop and such, but then photography for me was an expensive hobby and I couldn’t put into action what he taught me, then. How depressing.
Barcelona, 2008
He went to many places in the world, shooting role after role, as if he had a memory card. Gosh, he would go nuts, today!
One day he gave me a gift, a photo, framed that is still hung in my home.
It was a picture of a simple Mexican woman, squatting on a cold, stone floor, cooking.
In that 1/30 of a second, he captured her thin frame, chiseled face and multi-colored dress
But,
The tanned, veined hands caught my eyes.
Something felt familiar and my throat lumped.
I missed grandma.
P.S. The photo is of an 88 year old woman I saw sitting in a plaza I will not name. There were pigeons and I mean a googolplex amount of pigeons on and around her.
She let me get this close, so out of consideration, I will not show her face.
