Three proper vintage ladies of a certain age knit demurely in the high branches of an ancient white oak tree, just leafing out in a New England spring evening.  They are wearing heels and stockings, and we don’t know how they arrived at their perches, but they are as calm as the early twilight stars in the background.    I wanted to show the magic and mystery in older women, the balance that we have learned to keep so casually, and the way our life experience gives us abilities that are close to sorcery. Look closely at the small “moon” near the eldest lady.

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