Aunt Ruth’s photo philosophy

My great-aunt Ruth did not look the part of an adventurer. With her white hair, ever tightly pinned into a coil, conservative button-up blouses, and long skirts, she looked every bit the schoolmarm she was, teaching primary grades for decades in Niagara Falls, New York. Visiting her in my youth meant dinner at 4 p.m. sharp, Paul Harvey on the radio, and meticulous attention to her small garden plot, where she recorded