let's get real - lifestyle photographer - stephanie wind photography

a couple of months ago, kate and i had a play date among the orange groves.

it was very exciting for me, because i pass by these groves 10 times a day, and hadn't once walked near them to photograph someone enjoying their beauty.

and then my lovely friend mary came along, and with her newly 5-year-old daughter kate, took the risk of trespassing (gasp!) into the groves to capture kind kate along side the green and orange.

we had the best time.

kate was so awesome at climbing through the trees, like an amazing acrobat, and she was greatly saddened when our time there was over.

i am here to apologize to kate, and any other lover of orange trees.

these amazing trees, stand no more.

look at this machine - standing so tall and proud of it's work.

see that brown mess to the left?  those are my beloved orange trees, yanked out of the warm ground, left to die, until they are taken away, considered garbage.

they are gone.  the orange trees that my sons and i loved to watch change over the past year and a half in the time we have lived near them.  we loved to watch them grow their oranges, and smell of their beautiful blossoms.  we enjoyed watching the farm hands pick them, knowing their juice would possibly be coming to our home in a bottle.

but not anymore.

and why not?  all because someone thought they'd turn a buck and build another new neighborhood in windermere.

i am here to tell you, that is something that we do not need.  so many homes in the area are family-less; lonely and waiting for new owners to come along and spruce them up.  but no, we do not need new neighborhoods.  we need our farms.  we need simple life surrounding us.

instead, as of now, we get this:

do you see that man?  he's wearing a mask.  it's not fun to breathe in loose dirt, blown around by large machines.

my apologies to anyone i have offended.  i realize that building homes is someone's job.

but that doesn't change how i feel.  i am saddened to think that my boys (ages 5, 3, and 7 months) will most likely not remember the times we counted the rows that still had oranges on the way to school, or waved hi to the cows on the way to the grocery store, or told stories about running in the groves and playing hide and seek, or yes, giggled at the cow flop.

so, i will quietly step down from my soapbox, with this left to read:

Now all that was left 'neath the bad-smelling sky
was my big empty factory...
the Lorax...
and I.
The Lorax said nothing
just gave me a glance.
Just gave me a very sad, sad backward glance.
He lifted himself by the seat of his pants
and I'll never forget the grim look on his face
as he hoisted himself and took leave of this place
through a hole in the smog without leaving a trace
and all that the Lorax left here in this mess was a small pile of rocks with one word.
UNLESS

- Dr. Seuss