Sometimes a photo can make my heart skip a little beat. Not because of any grandeur, skill or sense of technical prowess. But because of how it makes me feel. Not because it’s perfect, or follows any rules. Sometimes it’s just … I don’t know. But this one was a surprise.
The shadows of early evening were making geometric shapes, looking warm and ethereal on the deck of the boat. I held the camera low, setting the focus point and exposure, but not looking through the viewfinder, as I didn’t want to make a scene. I wanted the lines, the light, the metal bench, and nothing else. And I got that. And I liked it. But I kept shooting, just to be sure I really, really had what I was looking for. And this surprise is what I saw when I looked at the screen. And that’s when my heart skipped a beat. Because this photo will remind me of our day- a day for Paul and I alone, visiting one of our favorite places, basking in the relaxation that a day or two away from home can bring. Because I’ll remember a little girl, her hair so blond it was almost white, her ponytail streaking sideways, horizontal in the whipping ocean wind. She stood, peeking over the railing to get a last glimpse of Cape Cod by sea. Because this makes me think of another little girl, many years ago, doing the same thing– feeling free and happy, like she belonged there. Because I think of childhood memories, and innocence, and the carefree nature of summer.
And we all know how I feel about summer.
“In summer, the song sings itself.”
-William Carlos Williams, American poet. (1883-1963)