It was something like being in a Mary Oliver poem, fleeting sun and quiet noises below the leaves... and in between, no, within each moment, we uncovered other moments. Stories, beauty, past lives, future plans, numbered trees, newer sprouts, soulful glances, historical pathways, honeybee lanes, homestead memories . . . oh, and yes, fashionable ladies playing with us as we leapt into our day away from it all. It is a good day when I can ride through the woods while stories are told of long ago, of Oaks planted in rows, where exactly the dogs like to run . . . and this with my anticipation of photographing at leisure. We ended the day talking about the trees, a precious sunset indeed. Thank you Katherine and Rebecca, foresters and preservers of your own living tales. Patricksburg, IN, it was so nice to meet you. That mystical spell the land can cast has fallen heavy on my shoulders. Here are some shots of the land, more of the lady . . . they start to cross paths.