Cruisin' the Hood

On Sunday, I went out with Nikki to take pictures again. This time we hit my neighborhood. I told her, "I want to photograph horses, cows, abandoned houses and cars, and hay." I think all we missed was the hay. I did get lots of weed shots.

Nikki drove. We turned out of my subdivision and... bam! Not two miles later started taking pictures. My family asks what living here is like. I say, "We have a Walmart."

I can feel them nodding, like we live in civilization. But that's not true, really. We live on the edge of civilization. At any point you can tip the other way. All of these pictures were taken closer to my house than the nearest Starbucks.

We literally drove until one of us said, "Oh, pretty!" And then Nikki would pull over and we'd jump out.

At one point we ended up at a creek bed (or maybe a runoff?). It was in the middle of nowhere, on an unpaved road. A truck pulled up with a little old man driving. He rolled down his window and asked me, "Are you taking pictures of snakes?" His country accent was pretty thick (plus he didn't have teeth), so it made it hard to hear him.

"What?"

"Snakes! Snakes!"

I looked on the ground, trying to understand what he meant that sounded like 'snakes' because, hello, there were no snakes. I must have been mishearing. "I'm, uh, taking a picture of the water."

"I'm just kidding, girl! There are no snakes this time of year!" Then he belly laughed like it was a huge joke.