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POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE: A PICTURE PERFECT MOMENT

10/11/2012

 
When I travel, my photos occasionally contain people I don’t really know.   Who is this woman who wandered into the foreground of my picture?  It doesn’t look like she knows any more than I do.  Of course, we were all as dazed as we were mazed during our outing at Chatfield's.  
Picture
Have you seen the recycling bin?!
These pictures usually make it to the recycle bin for obvious reasons; they’re casualties of a digital-image war filled with chaos and calamity.

Occasionally though, I deliberately incorporate complete strangers into my travel pictures.
Sometimes those strangers add to rather than detract from the story.  This was just a field of corn with little purpose or interest until the ark filled with people floated into the picture.     
Picture
Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink!
Sometimes those strangers are the story, a story so poignant, so universal that it could be my story.  Besides, there’s only so much a one-armed-photo-bandit can capture at arm’s length.  This was one of those moments that needed full frame to truly tell the story.
Picture
Happy anniversary Jimmy! You are my sea of tranquility.
Jimmy and I were literally and figuratively walking in their footsteps a couple hundred feet behind.  I doubt they knew we were there.  It wasn’t like we were stalker material.  We were deep into our own magic moment although they were front and center in the frame of that story. 

It was odd in a way, experiencing the moment while watching it unfold from a distance too. I bounced between both stories as they ran concurrently before succumbing to the inevitable draw to capture the moment like a firefly and keep it for my own guilty pleasure.

We were one and the same; another middle aged couple (bear with me, please! ) walking hand in hand along the shores of Maui’s Ka'anapali beach at the end of yet another perfect day in paradise.

Perhaps it was their easy, uniform pace that suggested they understand the sum of their shared lives was much more than two hearts beating in unison.  They walked as one with their shoes in hand, their soles bared at the end of another precious day shared between friends and lovers.  
 
It didn’t seem to matter there were storm clouds on the horizon. Experience has taught Jim and I they usually blow over quickly. 

The wind in my hair felt liberating that evening; my husband’s hand in mine always keeps me grounded, safe.  The gentle sound of the surf filled the comfortable silence between us where once our hopes and dreams had taken flight in a litany of chatter filled with planning and purpose.  The soft, warm breeze caressing my face and arms hinted the night was still young; so were we.

The moment needed nothing. I could see and feel my life and its blessings as plain as the footprints in the sand.
 
I just needed something to make the beauty of the moment more than a fleeting memory.


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