This has been my only goal the last few days. To take time each day to feel the sun on my face.
It’s not Mother’s Day or her birthday when I miss her most. It’s these ordinary days when I grieve the loss. She was a person with big emotions and a small thing like a trip to the farmer’s market would be a really big deal for her. She was cheerful and full of energy and she loved to shop. She would stop at every booth and make small talk with the farmers. She bought things she loved and things she thought the people in her life would love and it was all just one big adventure for her. All those insecurities melted away when she was surrounded by those who loved her and everything seemed possible. The smell of peonies takes me right back to her side.
I am inspired by the recent features on Lenscratch, Flowering in Photography, especially the pictures of weeds by Jin Lee in her series, Prairie.
My husband and I walk the trails of Spotsylvania Battlefield most days of the week, but I rarely consider this location a source of photographic potential. The landscape feels wild and messy, and I have a hard time figuring out how to see in this place. I feel connected to the landscape and yet resistant to its untamed nature. I’m honing my perception of this natural beauty. I’ve found a big part of my ability to take pictures here involves the time of day of my visit. I thrive in the early morning views, just at sunrise, when I am the only person in the park. The quiet settles my mind. The breeze alerts my senses. The fog wraps itself around me without pretense or judgement. The sweet fragrance of honeysuckle feels like falling in love. And I am present to witness it all. This experience rights my mood, setting me straight, orienting me toward gratitude.
I wonder if every picture we take can be viewed as a way of coping with fear, a strategy for seeking safety. We worry and sometimes we feel helpless, all with good reason. We become hypervigilant, scanning our surroundings for signs of danger. Sometimes the signs are within the larger world and sometimes they are in our own homes or hearts, but either way they leave us exhausted and hurt. What would we do differently if we weren’t afraid?