Above these words you see a closeup of a redbud blossom. Now, this is not just any redbud blossom: three years ago, when we moved to Claremore, I planted this redbud. It was a gift from the yard of a new friend. The tree was a volunteer, you see, and not needed where it came from. It was out of place, in other words, so, I “adopted” it. It went into a prime location in our front yard. A slender young thing, it has struggled to survive in the tough summers we’ve been having. It almost didn’t make it through last summer. But, I dragged a hose across the yard, laid the mouth of the hose at the base of the tree, turned the water on at a trickle, and let its thirsty roots drink long and deep. I didn’t give it a drink just once, of course, but every other day, I would drag the hose across the yard and bring water. The tree hung in there—barely—but it never has blossomed. Until this morning. Out on a Saturday morning, early, to plan my springtime projects, I went over to the tree, saw that it was beginning to leaf out, then noticed a a fleck of color. The tree’s first blossom, ever! What a thrill. Maybe I shouldn’t say this, being as this is my portrait web site and all, but if I could make a decent income from taking only pictures of flowers, if I could only do so…I’d do it! But I can’t. So instead, what I do is take pictures of people as if they were flowers: precious, irreplaceable flowers, flowers whose fleeting beauty deserves to be remembered and embraced for all time.
Tom Launius, CPP