Every morning as we got ready to go to school, I saw these two chairs and trees with a backyard that invited me in. I photographed it at different times of the morning to get the light right. Whenever I saw the two chairs beckoning me, I was transcended. To what I don't know. Maybe it's that lingering memory of my grandparents, born in 1902 and 1903, both sitting in their backyard together, he in is railroad overalls and her in a housedress and straw hat. They sat in lawn chairs together.
The story is that my grandfather was one of nine children who lived way out in Franklin and one day he laid down his hoe and started walking to Detroit. To join all the boys who migrated to make cars when cars were new. But he couldn't stay away. One day when back home he saw my grandmother, a woman with big bushy hair. He fell for her and eventually took her back with him to Detroit. My mother was born there but not long after they settled back home, in Asheville on Salola Street where they lived for 50 years.
These two chairs carry me back to a memory of a backyard where I saw my grandparents evening after evening for many years.
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