Frozen Moment

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.

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One thought on “Frozen Moment

  1. I wonder even more, what is really left behind in a photograph’s image?

    “What are we supposed to feel and think when we look at these pictures? Should we be happy that they were found at all, or sad that they will never be returned to their owners? Or should we simply mourn for the dead? The more I struggle to find answers, the more missing pieces I seem to find. But without looking at the pictures, I don’t think we’ll see anything at all.”

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