12 Hours with a Barn and a Cottonwood

September 22, 2020

I made these photographs on the fall equinox of 2020, this askew barn and mighty cottonwood were a half mile from one another. I’d walked by them many times over the years, and while nearing the equinox, each took on new significance. It was an election year and the pandemic continued to reshape society. The barn, cottonwood, our country, the world, and myself were at a precipice for change. As a kind of meditation or an attempt at enlightenment, starting at sunset and going until sundown, I spent 30 minutes with the cottonwood and the barn, alternating to and from, observing the birds, animals and shifting shadows as the day marched forward. A few years have passed, the barn no longer stands and the cottonwood continues to house eagles, patiently enduring the seasons, our country continues to look back, pushing against time.

I am weary of daily things,
How the limbs of the sycamore
Dip to the snow surge and disaffect;
How the ice moans and the salt swells.
Where is that country I signed for, the one with the lamp,
The one with the penny in each shoe?

I want to lie down, I am so tired, and let
The crab grass seep through my heart,
Side by side with the inchworm and the fallen psalm,
Close to the river bank,
In Autumn, the red leaves in the sky
Like lost flags, sidle and drift…

-Next, Charles Wright