RECLAMATION in progress


A few years back, my mother burned her house down. The only thing left of the house is a white chalky slab covered in rubble, its odd geometry obscured by fallen leaves and creeping weeds. I couldn’t photograph the foundation because the absence of the house was too much for me to contemplate… I had to look away, and when I did I was amazed at what I saw:

The pool has become swamp.
Frogs living in the hot tub.
Vines tangled in the swing set.
Tip top of the tee pee frame lifted up by a tree.

“Reclamation in progress,” I thought.


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