Migrant Workers vs. Migrant Medfords

I was caught by an image in my native county this past weekend when I passed by this migrant home (it’s tomato picking time) in the Cruso Valley of Haywood County. The immediate image appeal was the backlighting, the colorful clothes hung on a chain link fence, and a flash-back to having spent time in the Third World.   The children playing on the other side of the chain-link fence retreated instinctively to inside their home as soon as they saw someone with a camera, but most of the attractive elements were there and I remained impressed by the composition. I processed my images when I returned to Winston-Salem on Sunday, and as a I looked out the window, I saw our clothes hanging on our fence. I smiled at the similarity of scenes. Our motivation for dying our clothes on the fence is that we love the texture and smell of sun-baked cotton towels — yes, we have a dryer. I doubt that I would ever get the confidence of the migrants to hear their story; but I am positive they do not have a dryer.   I bet they enjoy the smell and texture of their parched clothes, too.