He is 6 and he is standing at the edge of a
yellow caution tape that was strung around the entire play-scape. His eyes
slide slightly right as I walk up but he does not look over; he is very still
his breathing is measured. I look toward the direction that has him engaged;
then sweep my gaze over the entire area and back to the spot he is intent upon.
I sit down on the ground about 5 feet from him. At this bold move his eyes dart
over to me and slide the distance between us then again back to what I now
believe is his target. He again looks at me, turns ever so quickly to glance
back at his parents, again, back at me where he nods and then refocuses on the
target. My assistant, the lovely Olivia, and I at this cue from him engage his
parents in conversation. I can see him relax ever so slightly as he scans again
the play-scape. I shift toward him and in a calm voice I ask him if he has his
eye on his target. He nods,” do you have a plan or are you just going to run
around and grab up as many eggs as you can?” He looks over at me, “I have a
plan”. His gaze again shifts to his target.
“Once you clear that area do you know what area you will sweep next?” He
nods. “Are you going to start out here on the edge where there will be fewer
children and work your way into the middle or are you going straight to the
middle and do battle there for eggs?” Without looking at me he slowly raises
his arm and points to a location in the middle of the area and says “I am going
to the middle and getting all of those eggs.”
Somehow this conversation has gotten very intense and the air around us
seems alive and crackling. “After that are you going to work your way back this
way?” No he says quietly “I will continue in the center.” I am looking toward
where his gaze is settled. “So, you have a strategy from beginning to the end
of this?” His gaze crawls over to me; I turn my head to look at him. Once he
has my eyes locked he says “yes I do”. His expression is intense. His blue eyes
are sharp and focused. His nostrils are flared like a war horse ready for the signal
to charge at a joust. “Good hunting little man.” He turns back to refocus.
He did as planned and stayed his course. I
lost sight of him in the fray but his father stayed watchful. As the other
children left the hunt having gathered what they believed were all the eggs he
stayed still searching. He finally worked his way back to where we were his
bucket full. The situation had taken on a surreal feel to it. I could have been
standing on the edge of a battle field in York or Calais, Antietam or
Vicksburg. He was like a soldier ready to enter the fray; not as a follower but
as a leader. If I were going into battle I would want this little man on my
side.
It is usually easier to photograph the very
small children hunting for eggs as they tend to stop and inspect each egg
allowing you the chance to grab a shot that may be in focus. I never did get a
shot of the little soldier but, I got something better a postcard for my
memory.
Next egg hunt will be my grand-daughter
Easter morning. When is yours?
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