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Swaying in the Breeze
On one very hot day, my wife and I followed an abandoned Illinois Central rail bed to an old trestle bridge. What stayed with me most wasn’t the bridge, though. It was a patch of wildflowers dancing in the wind on the other side.
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Part of a Story That Started Long Ago
When the package arrived, it looked like any other box that had come through the mail.Packing peanuts, bubble wrap, the usual packing job. Nothing unusual at first.But once I started unwrapping it, I had a feeling this one might be a little different. The first thing that surprised me was the weight. For something called a pocket camera, it was heavier than I expected. Not heavy in a bad way, just solid – like it had more years behind it than it was letting on. As the last of the bubble wrap came off, I noticed the box. The paper was yellowed with age, and there was handwriting on the…
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A Photo I Took That Means Something to Me
I don’t remember thinking much when I took this photo.That’s usually how the ones that matter seem to happen. It was a hot July day outside during a family cookout. The kind of heat you don’t fight, you just accept and slow down for. People talking, food cooking, kids coming and going. Nothing all that special on the surface. Then there was this. My wife, her hair pulled back, holding our grandson against her chest. No posing. No playing to the camera. Just comfort and closeness. He fit there like that was exactly where he belonged. My wife holding our grandson the way only a grandmother can. Calm, steady, and…
