Sunday, September 1, 2013

old souls

I love this old photo. It was taken in the late thirties up Mt. Cook, a mountain with its feet in my grandparents farm and its head in the clouds.
It's a pretty relaxed looking group of teenagers perched atop a rocky bluff. They are enjoying a snowcone of sorts; original and unflavoured.
My mother is smack dab in the middle of the picture. Such a beauty with her long blond hair. I note that her feet are sensibly clad in hiking boots, her overalls and blouse likely home sewn.
I'm not surprised my Dad was drawn to her like a moth to the light.
He had recently moved to Blue River from the city of Drumheller. He was an eldest too, sensible and mature in the same sort of way that my mother was; two old souls.
My father is wearing one of his hats as usual, and it has cast his face into deep shadow.
My father at the edge and almost hidden by shadow.
The simple, honest friendship of the Nelson family drew him out into the open.
His heart was on his sleeve then, and my mother just reached out and took it.

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