The Perfect Family - Part VII
A very warm and loveable welcome to you, my dear readers. An especially warm welcome to any new readers to the blog who may be confused about what on earth is being written about here. Please don't go away until the end! My aim is to reclaim the image of the family from the perfectly groomed to the perfectly imperfect. Families are places for unscheduled fun, unadulterated pride, and immense surprise and disappointment. All of which makes for a superbly unique experience which I dearly love to recount (though ask my daughter what she thinks of this in 15 years and I may have changed my tone!).
We have moved out to the countryside for the summer to a lovely little cottage we rent. Placed smack bang among swaying grain fields and wave upon wave of stunning pigments delicately blending together, it makes for a truly perfect landscape for a photographer with delightfully naughty young children to photograph.
Below is a picture which encompasses the experience of being out in the country for my 2 year old daughter. Flinging herself back and forth on an enormous rock which supplies a view of the fabulous landscape before her, she pounces from one mossy tuft to another with an expression that displays the freedom and exhilaration that we are so fortunate to live with as a matter of routine. With the worrying events which regularly unfold across our continent, I feel a particular pang of gratitude at being able to provide my children with experiences which will, with any luck, mould them into contented and purposeful people full of life and imagination, ready for a future which holds a myriad of unknown elements.
Happy children in fields? Positive and bright futures!? WHAT AM I READING!?... I hear you cry. Worry not, this is not a soppy call to arms for our potentially crumbling continent and political institutions.
I get to the point... Despite all of the stated benefits of being in a landscape as idyllic as those in the fairytales of old, fits of rage are nonetheless unavoidable. "Suggest to count up all of the wonderful stones which she has collected," I thought to myself. "What a superb, pedagogically inspired idea!" I concluded upon reflection of the aforementioned thought. Was it truly a worthwhile suggestion? Not according to the beast which tore itself through Selma's joyful facade and snatched away the stones which were so lovingly plucked from the sacred Earth beneath her feet. The fate-filled stones were then flung as far as a sausage-length arm could muster, deep into the golden, swaying mass of wheat which awaited the blow with the grace and humility one would expect from such a stunning pasture. A prolonged roar promptly followed and bellowed across the plain, which in translation to human-speak would sound something like the words I would like to use to describe a politician who holds a very special and permanent place in the darkest torture chamber of my mind and who I am delighted to have witnessed the mouth-watering demise of. No names will be mentioned.
Every once in a while, I can't help but feel a pang of guilt for exposing the world to the abuse which I know is waiting for it with the arrival of my perfectly imperfect little bunch of critters.
Thanks again for taking the time to read my tales. I take immense satisfaction from writing these and your thoughts and comments have been very much appreciated. If you subscribe to my blog, you will also receive a short weekly email with some extra images related to the current week's post. The list is growing, so thank you to all my wonderful subscribers who get to share a little extra piece of the most wonderful aspect my life with me.
Here's wishing everyone a lovely week, completely devoid of depressing news!