Thursday, August 16, 2012

My Corn Adventure

I'm entering the world of the corn today. Having passed the long rows many times while taking walks, particularly with Lily, I decide to follow my pup's lead and enter in........

I am a bit nervous. Two of my favorite movies make cornfields appear somewhat spooky. In "Field of Dreams" there are those ghostly baseball players that come out of the cornfield, not to forget James Earl Jones disappearing-apparently forever- into them at the end of the movie.

Then there's "Signs" and those weird looking aliens slinking around, hiding in the corn, making crop circles.

Okay, this will take some courage.

But if Lily can do it, so can I. In I go. With my camera, of course. And this notebook, with a pen. Here I am embarking on a true photo journalistic adventure only a block away from my home, behind the Elementary school some of my kids attended.

Thank goodness I have a neck strap for my camera, so all I have to carry is my notebook and pen. It's almost noon, the sun is high in the sky, extremely bright.

I needed to disappear today..... Into the corn.

I've learned much in 51 years, one thing in particular recently- that when I'm feeling a bit beat up, internally or externally, or maybe both, the best remedy I know is to disappear...... In a healthy way.

I didn't take photos as a child or write much that I recall. What I did do frequently was explore, find adventure in simple places, such as a cornfield.

So I'm disappearing today- big Danese that is- and engaging little girl Danese. She helps me see things I tend to miss. She begs me to follow out needs and feelings I have ignored so much of my life, sparking my best inner creative self. She helps me embrace myself, forgive myself, and look at the bright side of life. She encourages me to have fun.

My Corn Adventure

I walk over freshly mown grass to get to the corn. The sun is hot, high overhead, burning my neck- it is almost noon. Looking into the thick wall of stalks with their leaves tangled I move forward at an angle, using my hands(one holding that notebook) to push the leaves apart, sidestepping the cemented stalks which from this approach are not neatly in rows. 

In I go through the staggered stalks, proceeding back about fifteen feet. I stop to write, with a large green leaf resting on my paper as I do. I laugh, pushing back the leaf as others tickle my arm.

There is a larger, wider row I reach further back, a perfect place to sit in amongst the corn. Noone could possibly see me here. I remain quiet, still, not causing any movement of the stalks. Alone in this place, except for God. I love the privacy this secret place affords he and I today. I point my camera up, the sky is so blue from this angle, the view amazing. Is this heaven?

A slight breeze blows and I listen, trying hard to find words to describe it. Not really a rustle, more of a soft, flapping, muffled sound. The sunlight on a leaf next to me illuminates why, something I never noticed before- there are small fuzzy hairs on both the stalks and the tops of the leaves, so when they strike one another it produces a gentle soothing sound. I am learning so much today.

I decide to stand, ready to move down the wide row I am facing. I look down at my notebook and pen, fascinated by the dappled effect of the light created by the corn.

I'm moving down the row, thinking of Lily. She loves to follow a row and reappear at an unexpected place. Sounds perfect to me. The corn feels like hands extended, giving me "high fives" as I walk through, congratulating me for entering.
Lily is such a smart dog!

Crickets sing. I hike along, beginning to sweat, realizing I have been in here almost an hour. The corn row narrows, I have to push harder to make my way through, feeling itchy as I go. It is just about time to find my way out. What a view , seeing this huge, billowy, cloud up ahead.

I look to the right, the direction I came in from, and all I can see is corn. As I proceed I begin to see the outline of the school, just through the leaves. I pause, hoping noone sees me as I break out through the stalks. I don't want to scare anybody! Seeing a middle aged woman with a camera and a notebook coming out of a cornfield would definitely be an unusual sight. 

I say thank you to the corn and bow, feeling a little sad to be back in the real world, but happy I had a few moments to disappear..... into such a lovely realm.

Guess what's for dinner? There's nothing better than some fresh Pennsylvania sweet corn, with lots of butter and salt. I can taste it already as I return home.

Please follow the link below to watch a short video Terry took of Lily's corn adventure:

1 comment:

Cathy said...

I went into that same corn field years ago, looking for my son's rocket. I discovered it could be very intimidating. With nothing but sky and corn to navigate by. The only comfort came from knowing it wasn't THAT big a cornfield and if I kept walking I would eventually come out. I loved your take on your exploration.