Santa Teresa

Santa Teresa, my family’s farm in Uruguay. The nearest tiny village is 15 kilometres away over mainly dirt road. One week. No TV. No radio. No newspaper. No phone. No Internet. A chicken passes by. A leaf falls down. One week. No deadlines. There’s no dilemma choosing between whether I please myself or someone else. Two cows stare at me, curious but coy, just like me at times.A boy runs away from my camera. A dog barks. Wheat grows. The corn is harvested. The soybean is being planted. One week. Right here. Right now.