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Photographer’s Note

This spurs of wheat reminds me the narratives of my mother, when she told me her souvenirs of childhood.
The work after the school, the wooden duties, the nanny-goats of which it was necessary to take charge

I also remember moments of relaxation, laughter, races in fields and her pleasure to chew on these spurs of wheat.

I like too, to rub my hands the one against the other one, to fly away pods to find in the end in the hollow of my hand, than these grains nice-smelling filled with sun.

A place of paradise, where everything seems to you beautiful

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Additional Photos by Karine DANJON (DKarine) Gold Star Critiquer/Silver Workshop Editor/Gold Note Writer [C: 259 W: 36 N: 677] (3852)
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