"But thinking of her life was another thing. Lying there in that room in that house in that quiet town she could choose what her life had been. The others were there. The world was there, evening and morning. No matter what anybody thought, no matter if she only tagged after them because they let her. That sweet nowhere. If the world had a soul, that was it. All of them wandering through it, never knowing anything different or wanting anything more."
"It was October when the child began stirring. [...] She was clearing away leaves when she felt the child move. She said 'Well, child!' I been waiting on you.' The sun was brightly mild. There was the crisp sound of maple leaves just ripe enough to fall, and leathery oak leaves that would cling until the wind took them, and the smell from the fields of all the life that had burned through all those crops until it spent itself down like a fire."
“She’d never thought before how strange a cornfield can look so late in the year, all the stalks dead where they stand. The country had always just been work waiting to be done. Now she saw the dim shine of sunlight on the leaves, and how the stalks were all bent one way, the tops of them. The wind had bent them and then left them rigid, with their old tattered leaves hanging off them. But it was as if they had all heard one sound and they all knew what it meant, or were afraid they did, and every one of them waited to hear it again, to be sure, every one of them still with waiting. She said, ‘It don’t mean nothing,’ speaking to the child. ‘It’s the wind.’ ”
"In the months that followed, the world and nature and weather did what they did regardless of human suffering or bewilderment or grief. There was day and night and day and night and the light fell away earlier and the frost came and then an early blizzard blew in and the cattle in the pastures turned their rumps against the wind and snow."
"Most areas in the world may be placed in latitude and longitude, described chemically in their earth, sky and water, rooted and fuzzed over with identified flora and peopled with known fauna and there's an end to it. Then there are others where fable, myth, preconception, love, longing or prejudice step in and so distort a cool, clear appraisal that a kind of high-coloured magical confusion takes hold."
-John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley
Somewhere in the middle of Oregon, end of July 2014
film: ILFORD HP5 400