I grew up in a bitty town on California’s central coast. Back then, it had but one claim to fame: the Mid State Fair. People came from all over the county to visit our fair–to enter goods both homegrown and homemade in hopes of winning the prized blue ribbon. For two weeks each summer the fair was the only place to be. Our grandstand drew the biggest names in entertainment. George Strait and Kenny Chesney and Tim McGraw. The only problem for me was that I never much cared for country music. Well, not at first.
I was so very ripe and pregnant when I found myself really listening to a country song for the first time. Tim McGraw’s, “Don’t Take the Girl.” I listened to the story in the lyric and by the end I was crying real tears. That summer would be the first that I would go to the fair and actually appreciate the music.
I digress with that story. It’s because a song came to mind. “She Don’t Know She’s Beautiful,” by Sammy Kershaw. It comes to mind because this past weekend I made her trudge down to the creek with me for more pictures. I’m starting a photography business and I need willing models. My only problem is that my girl who loves having her picture taken moved across the country and so I’ve had to recruit a less willing younger sister.
“Smile like you mean it,” I tell her.
Like this? She asks, unsure.
“Put your hand in your hair, casual.”
I’m not good at that.
But then I sneak peeks at the image previews and I beg to differ.