Wednesday, August 25, 2010

A Moment Frozen in Time . . . Snapshots

Me, Kayla, Jake (Kayla is no longer with us)
(maybe this photo will cool off you all who are still sweltering!)


Nothing remains static. The world turns with all our energies both expelled and absorbed from pre-beginning to after-end; we become a part of a greater energy. Everything is pulsating, a part of each other. So how could something so dynamic not change and morph? Even require it. There is The Good Change, and there is The Bad Change, and there are the changes that no one notices until one day they say, “Hey . . . wait . . . whatever happened to . . .” And there is that moment of bemusement, or maybe of loss for what wasn’t even missed until some fluke in the atmosphere caused a flick of the memory-wrist. And then there are the snapshots filed away in drawers, albums, and the parts of the brain made just for remembrance.


Jake & Maggie Girl our rescue dog















I have this snapshot shouting loud. It comes uncalled and unbidden, but it comes. It is winter, and the snow is falling, blanketing an already white-washed world. The backdrop is sepia-toned, shades of black and white with that tinge of old-timey photograph brown. I am dressed warm, and by my side are GMR and my two dogs, Jake and Kayla. We’re on the Muse Trail, Level Two. I have my camera and I’ve set it to video and as I turn 360 degrees, I say, “Isn’t this lovely? Isn’t this the best life ever? Don’t you wish you were me?” My dogs, off their leashes, run in the snow, their paws kicking up sprays of snow and arcs of ice that hover for just a moment before falling back down to earth; some catch prisms—I know; I saw. The branches are laden with snow and some hang heavy, ready to smack a head and sent showers of cold upon them—I know; I was showered. We walk in the most perfect silence ever: you know the silence? The one that muffles footsteps, but makes bird calls ring so clear through the air that you hear it in perfect pitch. I have that snapshot because there have been changes come since that Perfect Day.



Changes that make the memory one I am grateful for, even as I wish for all of it back, Human that I am. Yet, would the memory stand in such sharp gorgeous relief if the changes had not altered it beyond repair? No. I’d have taken it for granted, knowing I could have that feeling over and over again. That Perfect Day has become one I feel the most profound sense of gratitude for—I know; I was there before the changes. And I also know I am making those snapshots every moment of every day and only time will tell which ones will stand out sharp against the others.


What kind of memory comes unbidden and sudden to you as you read this, or perhaps at another time?


can't see ghost dog, but ghost dog is there, can't see the Muse Trail Level One destroyed, but it's beyond this photo

11 comments:

Marisa Birns said...

I feel like Proust. Snapshots do bring the memory I'd put away really deep, but scent does that for me, too.

Constant Comment Tea. Reminds me of when I visited my sister at her dorm in New York City. We stayed up late talking, laughing, sharing Sara Lee pound cake with the tea.

She's never been that easy to talk to, especially recently, but there was a moment when it was all good.

Angie Ledbetter said...

Yes, cameras are as essential as keyboards and pens/pads to me. (Remember my OCD freak-out in Mexico Beach when I thought my camera charger wasn't with me?)Photos are a different kind of writing, preserving, recording -- but just as (or more) meaningful than words.

Wish I was there on the porch with camera in hand! Hugs

Diane said...

It would be lovely to keep that one day alive forever. Pictures are helpful reminders of times past.

Adorable pups! :O)

Sharla said...

Mine is a photo I have on my fridge of a Mother's Day event at my house, all of us sitting outside, with my parents there, sitting together. It was a fantastic day, lots of family, lots of great food. After that, my parents didn't speak for a year and then they died within 8 mths of each other.

demery bader-saye said...

So, so lovely.

I'm wondering if I've ever had a day like that. Certain wonderful moments come to mind, for sure. But maybe I've let the daily stresses of life and the complications of relationships - or fear? - be deterrents to fully engaging the beauty of the world around me.

Thank you for a thought provoking post!

Marguerite said...

Lovely post and so true! Since I have thousands of pics and videos, it would be hard to pick just one. They are all over my home and I change them around, at least once a month. But I only display the ones that make me smile! :)

Karen said...

I love capturing memories or art in pictures. (I need to learn how to do that better, tho.) I remembered playing with my dogs in the water-uh, don't have snow here in FL. Made me smile. Thanks Kathryn.

Debbie said...

I love to drag out the old family albums and have those memories come flooding back.

Deb Shucka said...

It seems a lot of us are reflecting on change these days. It must be the fall in the air. I think an ideal life would be one where each day becomes its own perfect snapshot to be recalled in the same way you're recalling this winter's day.

Debra L. Schubert said...

Great photos, beautiful pups.

I've had a lot of memories racing through my mind lately. Wonderful times that in the current light, seem sad.

Hugs to you, my friend, for always writing with an intensity and poignancy that is deeply moving.

Doreen said...

change, every day is change. I think of life as a book. you turn the page, next day! end of chapter. there is another one. just turn the page of life. memories are chapters in the past, but remembered. Hi! BTW, it has been a while.