I choose to not take pictures sometimes. I prefer the memory to be intimate and not permanently public. Freezing the moment, creating the illusion that the image is forever distorts the flow of reality.
The child giggling and dancing in circles years later distant from the playful joy.
To feel the joy I search for playgrounds to be physically present with youthful laughter.
The cherry tree with the perfect sitting perch cut down because it was too messy.
My walking path changes with the season, searching out the cherry tree in early spring, then the magnolias, and even later in the year the yellow and then red leaves of fall.
The lovers embraced by the mist of the waterfall before the distortions and broken promises wash away their connection.
Refreshed by clarity and an image with the ability to change I walk away alone yet full of the laughter, joy and beauty of every season knowing the memory of this moment awaits my presence.