A crack in everything

After I was through inside the church – this was the last interior photo I made – it was time to walk around the building. As I made it around to the side that faces the highway, I saw him. The monk. He was on his way to the mailboxes.

In a minute, he came down the hill, and stopped for a chat. He talked about the town, the Mennonites who live just across the border in Mexico, the weather, Minnesota (where he’s from), a 1940 murder at the liquor store* and showed me the bullet holes, and gave me directions to the cemetery.

But you know what? I never told him about the icon, partly from residual shyness that still pops up from time to time, and partly because it seemed a little too fan-girl.

The whole encounter starts to seem like it was more of a dream than anything else, but I can see clearly his dusty brown robe, his desert boots, his long reddish beard…

Shafter, Texas
photographed 11.4.2017

* True.

Posted on November 23, 2017, in Photography and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 8 Comments.

  1. the photo evokes a poignant mixed with reverent, or is it poignancy a facet of reverence… your words tell a story that is fitting for a thoughtful thanksgiving, the transitory encounters that change our lives…

    Like

  2. That’s how the light gets in ! ( per the late LC ) Amazing shot MGH.

    Like

  3. He seems pretty chatty for a hermit 😀

    Like

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