I suppose that’s the same thing — to be afloat or buoyed up. Well. Maybe not so much.
This park, Black Shoals, is fairly close to our home. My husband and I drive out to a wooden covered bridge there every once in a while. We used to walk on the trail by the water, and then just up to the bridge, where we’d look out across the water — mostly at nothing at all. It’s a nice way to spend an afternoon talking. Or not talking. After 30 years, the silence can be just as intimate. Maybe more.
These past few years have seen very low water levels due to drought, so when I saw this sailboat I was surprised. I didn’t think sailboats could handle such a small draft. Maybe the water here is way deeper than I thought. Anyway, it was quite a surprise to see the boat appear out of nowhere.
I enjoyed the couple sailing. They reminded me of us, my honey and I. Out on a quiet sunny day doing little more than enjoying each other’s company. More than just staying afloat and surviving, it’s a delightful way to keep each other moving on this journey together.
I took this photo some years ago….I was fooling around with aperture and speed and honestly don’t know how I caught this. I’ve always liked it, though, as far as self-portraits go.
It was taken at a time in my life that seemed to always be in motion. Three kids in high school/middle school, a bunch of after school activities, and a return to teaching for me. It was, to say the least, crazy. It was also a wonderful time.
I can’t believe how quickly the years have flown by…it’s been a blur.
A busy. Happy. Joyful. Blur.
When the cherry blossoms bloom around these parts, we have to run out and enjoy them immediately. They just suddenly bloom, everything is pink and beautiful, and the winds of spring invariably blow and they’re gone. Like pink snow, the petals fall and swirl around before disappearing.
It’s an ephemeral burst of life that comes every year.
My mother often calls these windy days in spring los vientos de cuaresma, the winds of Lent. I never gave it much thought since Lent and spring are, while not the same thing, certainly occurring at the same time.
And then I gave some deeper thought to the meaning of the wind blowing so insistently during Lent. What a fantastic presence of the Holy Spirit stirring up every nook and cranny in anticipation of Holy Week.
I need to come clean here: this isn’t a new picture. I took it a few years ago while I was waiting in a carpool line and I ran out of things to do. I happened to have my camera with me and I started playing around with motion and got this shot. I’ve always liked it, as far as self-portraits go. And I can be a hipster and say I took a selfie before it became ubiquitous. Ha!
I really like this picture, and I really like the challenge to somehow capture fleeting in a photograph. I love that my eyes are not moving here; they are focused on the moment, but the rest is in motion.
Isn’t that what happens when we get in the zone while we’re doing something we love? When I was a kid, I’d be playing so hard I wouldn’t remember to go in for lunch until my mom called me in, flustered and annoyed by the number of times she had to call for me. Later, playing basketball, I’d find my zone and time would both stand still and somehow zoom to the end of the fourth quarter.
As a young mother, I loved to rock my babies to sleep, and sometimes I’d feel like I was defying the laws of physics — the rocking chair would be moving back and forth, but my eyes would be locked on the face of the precious child in my arms, and time would stand still.
Those moments were fleeting, for sure, but they are also engraved in my mind’s eye…kind of like the picture.