muted

2019

photographs, green ribbon

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This was my first “real” book. I can remember having made little booklets and things for friends, but nothing I would have seriously called books back then.

I was taking a photography class, and when I visited my childhood home over a short break, I learned that the fence in our backyard was being torn down and replaced. That fence was older than I was, having been there since we moved in when I was two. The posts had rotted and the vines growing on the neighbors side of the fence were slowly pulling it down. At this point it was held up almost solely by wood and metal stakes.

This fence had seen me grow up. It was the backdrop in the play of my upbringing. It saw the only time it ever snowed in my hometown, and me as a toddler, playing in it. It saw birthday after birthday, holidays, a few graduations. It saw me teach myself to garden in high school, and spend time every day caring for the plants and in turn myself. I aged with this fence, and was thankful for it.

It feels good to honor the modest things.