March of the tomatoes

I found these forgotten photos in a recent search for a friend, the friend who invites us to the river from time to time, the friend who has nearly killed me on many a violent spill from waterskis, tubes or waverunners while jumping enormous tour boat wakes. And yet I still love her.

She's also the friend who unknowingly has helped my youngest become much less afraid and anxious around big dogs.

She has no choice but to come to love them, there are 4 at the river, all big, all black, all sweet and usually very wet.


This day we picked tomatoes.


Allie carried them.


And made the trek,

back down the hill,

to the beautiful place on the water. I'm trying my best to get adopted.