Sage

.

As old as the desert's parched earth. Timeless. The crisscrossing cracks on her face hide as much as they reveal - hardships, sorrows and laughter of an ordinary life. Her eyebrows raised, enquiring, trusting, her eyes narrowed to wrinkled slits to avoid the sun, her toothless smile encouraging, she's almost confident.

He speaks softly to her to dispel her doubts. She thinks to re-arrange the dry tufts of silver hair escaping from her worn woollen cap, but neglects the disarray of the layers and layers of her clothes. She's more than just a little interested in this man who gently insists on taking her photographs. She doesn't care that perhaps she will never see them printed.

He induces her to pose for him. She folds her work-hardened hands in a universal "namaste", hoping to communicate where language and culture stand like insurmountable barriers between them.

.

hide and seek

.

She rests her chin on her soft chubby hands, her elbows on the boundary wall, as she looks beyond the fence. Her lips slightly parted; her beautiful neglected cheeks with blemishes from the cold wind; her bright, curious eyes sweep the scene, searching, anticipating. Its a sleepy, frozen-in-time, unwilling-to-be-explored town. Every day is eventless, everybody knows everybody. Except for the stranger with the camera.

Her innocent mind flirts with the idea of who this man is and what he's doing here. She's old enough to know he is different from everyone else she has ever seen, but child enough to imagine he's harmless. She's courageous enough to follow him around from a distance, but she's not bold enough to walk up to him and strike conversation. She hides when she thinks he's aware of her presence, but giggles and lets him click her picture.

He captures her unawares. Her child-like dalliance delights him. He's here to experience untouched beauty, but he respects it enough to know that it must remain untouched.