Last summer, during a family vacation in the countryside, my daughter mistook the flowers for butterflies, expecting them to fly away. When we returned this year, she seemed to have forgotten that confusion and understood the difference quite well. So, I tried to use my camera to see things how she had once seen them. But, of course, the more I used my camera to see things differently, the further removed I became from childhood, nature, and all things romantic. The title comes from an essay by Edward Hoagland.
