The serenity of a waxing crescent moon falling into the sunset is leveled by the bustle of the Cajun restaurant below. Waiters are busied by hungry patrons, and a mural along the far interior wall depicts an early-mid 20th century swamp family. Young sisters hold hands and play, while thier mother, in bonnet, hangs clothes and feeds the fowl.
The children could as well have been my grandmother and great aunts, growing up in a time nearly lost to my generation, too seldom awakened from the annals of our fading heritage.
There’s a story behind every picture we take – most tell greater narratives than an onlooker’s scrutiny might infer. That’s why we should share them.