Summer: Jacagua Hills

Remember the quiet Sunday we spent on my uncle's hillside home?  Well, I took pictures of almost everything. The hummingbird shots were taken this same day while the bird was humming alongside the pool. The post on the preparation of tuna tartare showcased pictures I took this same day. And finally, the pool photos, where Emilu decides she wants to come out of the pool by herself were also taken that day. Here are the rest of the pictures. It was a splendid day. Sunny and bright, even as the city below was covered in a torturous haze.

First a hand, then the whole heart

As you can see I'm still going through the pile of pictures from our vacation in the DR. This set of images I took one day during lunch in my mom's apt. My grandmother had lunch with us almost everyday. It was our time together, and one of the most fulfilling hours of the day. After lunch, we'd have coffee and dessert, and Emilu would play on the floor until her nap time. Then we'd all take a little siesta (I never could). That was my time at the computer. When we first arrived, Emilu was shy and introverted toward my grandmother. She always is. I think her white hair  makes Emilu distinctively suspiscious. But, my grandmother never acted dissapointed by her reactions. She would tell me that children raised by their mothers, especially around this age, are more attached and more suspicious of strangers.  She would even tell me not to let her whimper when she'd see her.  My grandmother is acutely distressed by babies' cries, especially when they are avoidable.  So, everyday we would set out to modestly have her interact with my grandmother on her own terms.  And my grandmother, who's wise and patient, would entice Emilu with small gestures, little by little, day by day, until she finally gave her a giggle, then a hand, and finally, the day before last, her whole heart.

Grandpa's old farm

Growing up, grandpa's old farm was the idyllic place to spend the day during weekends. Through our innocent eyes, the farm was a place full of mystery and animals. My grandfather's mare was our ride of choice, and we could feed the pigs in their piggy quarters. There were chickens, fowls, and occasionally a few wild rabbits roaming everywhere. Today the farm animals are gone, with the exception of the 30 something year old mare, who gave birth to a colt soon after my grandpa's passing, and a old mule.  The colt is of no particular breed, more like a mutt, because we don't know who the father is.  He's what you call a country horse, goes by the name of San Miguel, and is my mother's fancy.  There are also four female dogs, formerly homeless and now living happily in the farm. 

My grandfather passed away three years ago. The lives of these animals are deeply anchored with the still beating heart of this farm. The farm may not be what it was once. But the animals give it life, and as long as they are here, the farm will too.

Little by little I'm learning to take pictures. It's not easy, even with a good camera. Sometimes, the picture you see in your head is not possible through the lens. I'm learning to appreciate the background, and see the possibilities. Photography is a school of self-discovery.