A few of us were debating about whether a photograph is always a moment in time or whether, like a painting, it can speak of the eternal of infinite. Yes, the camera more than a pencil or brush can capture that moment in time and hold it still like it does the ripples in the water in the photograph above or the bubbles before they burst in the photo below. But if it touches a cord in the memory of the viewer than it transcends that snapshot of time.
It is one thing to digitally capture an instant and another to capture an emotion or speak of a time past. A pleasant walk at dawn along a still pond with a beloved friend or favorite dog.
And even the bubbles below can cause the viewer to remember a bath as a child or a party with bubbles blown into the air.
Garden gazing balls always fascinated me as a child. Three of my aunts had them in their gardens. I thought they were what Alice must have walked through in Alice Through the Looking glass. I am not sure why I have never bought one for my own garden. I seem so drawn to them when I find them on my photography explorations. The photograph below is another SLR Selfie with dog and the aid of a gazing ball.
And the photograph below is the same gazing ball but taking myself out of the picture as it were. A different angel and you get a different world reflected. Convex to concave arcs.
The geese are back. No goslings. I do not know if they have made another nest or not. The pond's inhabitants seem all jumbled up this there. There are four male Mallards and no females. And today I saw six ducklings paddling like mad and not a parent in sight. Can ducklings make it without a devoted pair of ducks. Will the geese have a late set of goslings. So the photograph below is not just two geese swimming on a silvery lake but a bookmark in a disrupted season of water fowl.
Where as the snow capped Sangre de Cristos are beginning to all seem a like. So many snows this year. So many opportunities to attempt to capture the ultimate snow capped photograph.
But when I found these four chairs on a brick patio my mind began to work on the opening lines of a short story. Such nice wooden chairs but much in need of new paint. Used wooden chairs. Which four friends sat here and watched the rain in the pines. Or surveyed their work in the garden terraces below them. Have all four of them been used at once lately? When I first came upon them one was collapsed upon the brick. Unneeded or just blown by the winds of winter now retreating.
Photographs should be more than I was here on this date. And yet there is much to be said for the posed family before the rim of the canyon. I saw a story where a couple fell off a cliff at Yosemite trying to take a selfie. My macabre mind wants to know if they snapped other shots as they fell.