Grace begins with the morning light, with first light on a cloudy day or the run rising on a day like this day. I stop and see the light on the curtain, on the bottle, reflected in the cracks and marks on the window, mirrored in the shadows of the barn and the tree. Grace gives is a perfect day, a beautiful day, ours to try and keep or let slip away in the worries and conflicts of the hollow people.
On our farm, in or lives, Maria and I devote a part of ourselves to talking with animals, listening to them. Learning about them. We have both learned that talking to animals is not about knowing what they think, or telling them what they think. It is about a blankness, it starts with an emptiness. I approach animals this way. I am waiting, a receptacle. I share the things that are important to them – eating, grazing, soaking up the sun. I remind myself that they do not have our language, our words, our emotions. I respect theirs.
I enter their lives and wait for them to communicate with me, to talk to me in their own language, in their own way. Maria has always done this intuitively, I am still learning about it. If you clear your head and look at the photo, if you listen humbly, you can see it happening here. Communications about trust, love and acceptance, all here caught in the lens.
