An idyll of childhood

Figure 1 - An Idyll of Childhood, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

Figure 1 – An Idyll of Childhood, (c) DE Wolf 2013.

A highlight of the Pope collection at Hill-Stead Farm are two Claude Monet paintings of haystacks.  I mention this because after I left the main house, then free to use my camera, when I began to explore the photographic possibilities outside,  I heard the voices of two children, a boy and a girl – not little children but adolescents, pre- or just teens.  They were animated and hell bent on descending the hill into the meadow below.

I followed them, but, of course, couldn’t really keep up with their youthful legs and determination.  The meadow was well groomed by the harvest reaping and bore a very striking resemblance to the fields in Monet’s paintings.  The girl carried a plastic bag.  They were out to collect something.  The boy followed with a stick in his hands.  Their conversation continued unabated.  I couldn’t understand what they were saying.  Their enthusiasm wasn’t meant for me – but a was a private thing.  I had perhaps long ago lost the ability to understand their language.

The field was broken by two green paths.  At a fork they had made a choice – the most direct path to wherever they were going.  I followed them no further than the top of the hill.  I looked out at the barn across the field, assuming that was their destination.  But, I couldn’t be sure.  The world seemed very much defined to me and didn’t draw me on any further.  I had become an observer of the adventures of childhood.

I pulled out my camera to record the event. I framed the image the way I wanted it – neatly divided into geometric sections that paid homage to the “golden rule of thirds.” I loved the subdued pastel colors, the fall flowers in the foreground, and I loved the way the plow lines of the two sections weren’t all in the same direction.  It was like a giant doodle that I might have scribbled when I was young and bored in school.  I waited for the figures of the children to reach the point where I wanted them in the picture and I pressed the shutter.  Then they moved on out of sight, and I heard them no more.

This entry was posted in Personal Photographic Wanderings.