There is apple pie in the sunshine with apples from our own tree, and there is the radiant face of a child buried in corn.
One of the things I like about it is that it has great barns and cool houses, very old, like this home with the massive wood beams.
This summer, our family was given the gift of a photoshoot by a friend of ours who is just setting up his side gig of photography.
In my memory, June is a chilly and outrageously drippy month in our part of the world. What has come over this one, full of radiant blue-eyed days?
What do they do, little urban citizens of virtual worlds, when they arrive in a home where screentime for preschoolers is not prioritized? How do they live?
I feel like Caroline Ingalls, attempting to preserve civilization on the frontier wilds, with her tiny gilt-toed shepherdess on the mantel.