she holds a single pear - small, unyielding, unbearably heavy - in her hand, and finally comprehends the nature of the harvest.
her nurturing has been, after all, of little consequence. her care has failed in the face of fickle winds, and rain. her faith has been futile.
the remembered - and ephemeral - beauty of the blossoms will have to suffice.
A depth of field question, since foreground petals are blurred and those in the back are sharp: how close were you? (or, is it possible that pear blossoms are really maybe a meter wide? :-) )
ReplyDeletemagnificent image... wonderful words
ReplyDeleteseems as the 'unbearable lightness of being' to me...
have a good week
you know that if you lick a blossom, you can already taste the fruit it'll bring?
ReplyDelete