Michelle Roller Photography
San Luis Obispo, California
The smell of orange blossoms is wonderfully potent. It climbs through the empty terraces of the breeze to meet her. She moves through the grass hiding from the intermittent sound of passing cars on the adjacent country road. The groves have an expansive, sunlit mystery to them. Each ever-deepening row retains a fresh, amaranthine quality; a ceaseless walk of repeating senses, yet different somehow, redesigning themselves and dividing once more down each untrodden grove.
Her summer hair caught easily between her drowsy fingers as she stretches out on the woven blanket. Her marine, opalescent eyes bat and then close, but she remarks the orange and amber luster flicking on soft wings over her lids.