I’m a fan of repetitive patterns. Especially those which are not ‘linear’( dots, squares, etc.). When I spied this yard ornament, early on in my residency, I photographed it. I confess to have done this sort of thing for over 50 years now. There’s not always ‘rhyme or reason’ in a traditional sense: my attraction to the object/scene/what have you, is sufficient. It’s as if when I’m simply walking (or driving) this planet, that I hear a voice through my eyes. “Look at me”…”I’m special/interesting/….” and I’ve learned to listen. As I often do with this type of subject matter, I digitally ‘kneaded the dough’ of the raw image, until I felt that I had amplified that message/voice referred to above. The border was a last minute addition to prevent some of the white spaces from bleeding off the edges. I could almost hear the textures and patterns about to complain…a sort of “Don’t fence me in” lament. Thing is, in my role, I have the privilege of being the arbiter. The border stayed.