Metaphorically speaking, there is something really interesting about an empty chair. There are so many questions that could be asked: Whose chair is this? Where did they go? Are they coming back? So many stories that could be told. Whether we are even conscious of it or not, an empty chair stirs up all kinds of thoughts and emotions.
So, for many of those reasons I find them fascinating. And if you’re really looking, they’re everywhere. I will almost always stop and make a picture when I see one.
The picture above was made in a private yard near the small town of Victoria in southern Virginia. I had parked my car and was meandering when I stopped to photograph the patterns in the stone on the opposite side of this wall.
Naturally, I was spotted almost immediately by the home owner, an elderly women who I guessed to be somewhere about in her 70’s. But instead of chasing me off or calling for the authorities, she very graciously invited me into her garden where I would find “more interesting” things to photograph.
She wasn’t understating. The garden was more than three times larger than it looked from the outside with beautifully weather-worn stonework everywhere I looked. I spent the next 45 minutes darting from spot to spot taking in as much as I could. I could have stayed through to the following summer and not run out of inspiration. Not wishing to wear out my welcome, I thanked her for her time and patience and went on my way, thinking that I would stop again the next time I was in the area and bring her a print.
Too bad I didn’t also think to write down the address. In my excitement I failed to make a note of where I was or how I got there. Initially, I wasn’t too worried, thinking I would recognize the landmarks when I returned.
Not so. In several return trips I couldn’t find anyplace that looked like that neighborhood as I remembered it. In odd moments I wonder if the place really existed. Although I do have the photographic evidence.
The print is still in my files.
