![\"Pearsw\"](\"http:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/wp-content\/gallery\/Autumn\/Pearsw.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
Eating Alone<\/p>\n
I’ve pulled the last of the year’s young onions.<\/em> Once, years back, I walked beside my father<\/em> It was my father I saw this morning<\/em> White rice steaming, almost done. Sweet green peas<\/em> -Li-Young Lee<\/p>\n \n I had these pears in a bowl on my counter and thought they looked very photogenic. So I took them up to the tiny studio and made a few images. Then into the computer for some lighting effects and textures.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Eating Alone I’ve pulled the last of the year’s young onions. The garden is bare now. The ground is cold, brown and old. What is left of the day flames in the maples at the corner of my eye. I turn, a cardinal vanishes. By the cellar door, I wash the onions, then drink from … Continue reading Day 32 – Still Life with Pears<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,8,16,30],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-916","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-art","category-flora","category-macrocloseup","category-still-life"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/916","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=916"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/916\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":917,"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/916\/revisions\/917"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=916"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=916"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jeannehoadley.com\/Photo15\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=916"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThe garden is bare now. The ground is cold,<\/em>
\nbrown and old. What is left of the day flames<\/em>
\nin the maples at the corner of my<\/em>
\neye. I turn, a cardinal vanishes.<\/em>
\nBy the cellar door, I wash the onions,<\/em>
\nthen drink from the icy metal spigot.<\/em><\/p>\n
\namong the windfall pears. I can’t recall<\/em>
\nour words. We may have strolled in silence. But<\/em>
\nI still see him bend that way-left hand braced<\/em>
\non knee, creaky-to lift and hold to my<\/em>
\neye a rotten pear. In it, a hornet<\/em>
\nspun crazily, glazed in slow, glistening juice.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nwaving to me from the trees. I almost<\/em>
\ncalled to him, until I came close enough<\/em>
\nto see the shovel, leaning where I had<\/em>
\nleft it, in the flickering, deep green shade.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nfried in onions. Shrimp braised in sesame<\/em>
\noil and garlic. And my own loneliness.<\/em>
\nWhat more could I, a young man, want.<\/em><\/p>\n