The grape arbor needed to come down. The supporting posts had rotted at the ground so that the structure was wobbly. Plus, in the 15 years we've lived on this property, Leah and I have learned that the trees are so big here, there's too much shade to grow halfway-decent grapes.
As I loosened the bolts and began the process of taking the arbor apart, my mind wandered. I began seeing patterns and shapes. Our cat Basil made a game of tightrope walking on the boards and posts; I saw that Basil’s movement was going one way, the lines of the arbor boards were flowing another. I put aside the wrench and pulled a small camera from my pocket.
Leah was standing nearby and seemed surprisingly accepting of the scenario. Though the taking-down of the arbor was a project she really wanted me to do, I guess she realized the job would get done...eventually. She accepts that her husband is a photographer: If he’s taking down an arbor, he’s probably also seeing pictures; if he’s riding a bike, he’s seeing pictures; if he’s sleeping, he’s seeing pictures.
Q: How many photographers does it take to take down an arbor?
A: Two. One to do the actual work. Another to stand around with a dreamy look on his face, seeing patterns and shapes.
