Creatives have a degree of fantasy when we look at anything remotely interesting. One may exclaim “Oh what a pretty tree!”, and move on. Myself, no. In the split second I see the bright florals dancing in the August evening sun, I see sweet girls twirling their dresses, Mama’s sweet kisses and “Ring Around the Rosy” among siblings. Every day I passed by this amazing Crape Myrtle as I drove through my Chesapeake neighborhood, and when word reached me that the land had been sold and it was going to be torn down, I quickly contacted to the owner to fulfill my photographic fantasy.