off the map in amish country

there was hay and horses.

there was blue and white laundry

strung across porches and lawns.

there were jars of jam

and wooden toys

and hand sewn quilts.

 there was me with my camera

and the irrepressible urge to take photos.

but the amish don't like themselves to be photographed.

i didn't want to be invasive or disrespectful.

i failed on a few accounts.

because when, when do you see

hay being harvested by hand and horse?

but the discreet and distant photos

are nothing, nothing compared to the

shots i didn't take~

the ones of the barefoot toddlers in bonnets

and short brown dresses

that waved from their gardens.

the matching boys in blue shirts and hats

walking together along the dirt road.

the 2 women in  blue skirts and bonnets with the toddler~

a miniature version of themselves~

in a perfect triangle on their open buggy

in front of the perfectly weathered barn

where blue laundry soared above their heads,

strung from the house to the top of the silo.

it was an impromptu  masterpiece

of texture and placement for the taking.

and i left it.

i left it.

with admitted artist's regret mixed in the respect.