Three Cactuses

Three cactuses, the only sign of life in this faded somewhat shabby world.

I love window photography though I’m careful not to invade anyone’s privacy; I know this to be a kitchen area at an office business. The building is indeed well over 100 years old and everything is showing signs of wear over time: the faded, peeling paint on the windowframe, the limestone sill unevenly worn by weathering, the bricks with mineral deposits here and there obscuring the red color, the windows with spatters of paint, slightly wavy, paint on the glass in the corners. Even the more modern blind, just slightly off level, the cords woven through the slats a little tangled. Add to that the uncertain morning light and even the three organic members of the scene, off-center on the windowsill, are a species that naturally changes slowly over time. Years could pass in this little world and things would change, but would you notice?

I intentionally chose the less formal plural for “cactus” rather than the formal “cacti,” for even though things are aging and imperfect, it’s comfortable, non-threatening, even friendly.

[signoff’