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I have often thought about the home I grew up in in New York.
My bedroom had blue flower wallpaper and forest green carpet.
There was a magnolia tree out front we climbed, a small blackberry bush that we picked from in the summer, and a huge rock nestled next to a short juniper bush.
There was a rock that I would pretend was a baby hidden in the Juniper bush. I would find it every spring and play with it outside until the snow fell. Then find it again in the spring.
I would be crushed to go back and see bare floors, white walls and a misplaced rock baby.
Coming Home shows mages of residences from people's childhoods.
It is an interesting photojournalistic story.
1 comment:
Thank you for this. The baby under the bush reminded me of my own childhood imaginings x
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