Probably not the right phrase, but a fitting title. These hands. The hands of an idle woman. One whom sits in a chair with no place to go. No mind of where she is. Nothing to do other than to live in the world that her mind has created.
These hand on this particular day, they were not so much idle as much as they were busy. Busy shooing away only creatures that she could see. Busy trying to get invisible bugs off her pants or scrub away stains only she could see. Hands that were constantly busy, moving, fidgeting.
These hands of a woman that once used to help my grandpa cook up a storm on the holidays. The hands of a woman that were never necessarily loving but always caring. With that, I’m sure I am not the only one who knows those kinds of hands.
Aged hands. Idle hands in their own sense, in their own way. A beautiful picture none the less, and I hope that you agree.
Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.
Montana Rose Photography