Every so often I come across what I consider to be the laziest genre of photography, the still life of a bowl of fruit. A dead fly on the windowsill in the attic is a more engaging subject. And yet, as we moved my mother-in-law out of her house and into assisted living recently, I snatched up this fruit bowl and came home and filled it with clementines and grabbed my camera. My wife watched me bewildered, but saying nothing because she is wise. She observed in silence until finally reaching a conclusion.
"You really like that bowl, don't you?"
"Yes, it's why I've shamed myself so."
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