"Respectfully, no"
Smitten is the exact right word. That's all.
I always spend the summer looking. There is a park at the very back of Kingwood Dr., East End Park. I had never seen nor heard of this park and it was like a revelation, like tasting strawberries for the first time. There was this thing, this grand, secret landscape a few blocks away from where I live and I had not the foggiest, not the foggiest clue. This could've been a garden for all summer long, this could've been a tender spot. It's places like these that make the difference.
Things got a little mixed up this summer. I forgot a lot of things. For example, I forgot that it's okay to find more than three people wonderful at the same time. That's allowed and sometimes encouraged. It's good to create, it's good to take charge. Next time, if there is, I'm gonna try and reach for the whole thing and not just the crumbs. I don't want to accept less. I am finding less to be unacceptable, most likely because it is. It certainly is when standing right there, right next to more. I still want more.
And we were in the field, and my guys were doing that thing sparked up in a long car ride months and months ago with an old friend, and now it was living before my lens. There were a few seconds there when I was gliding around, racing the rain, desperate to catch the boundless joy that can't live in a frame, when everyone was perfect. Everyone was beautiful.
It's hard to say where the best parts of these days live after they're gone. In the middle of a field somewhere, there was a shining gift for the taking. I took it and I like to think everyone else did too.
I always spend the summer looking. There is a park at the very back of Kingwood Dr., East End Park. I had never seen nor heard of this park and it was like a revelation, like tasting strawberries for the first time. There was this thing, this grand, secret landscape a few blocks away from where I live and I had not the foggiest, not the foggiest clue. This could've been a garden for all summer long, this could've been a tender spot. It's places like these that make the difference.
Things got a little mixed up this summer. I forgot a lot of things. For example, I forgot that it's okay to find more than three people wonderful at the same time. That's allowed and sometimes encouraged. It's good to create, it's good to take charge. Next time, if there is, I'm gonna try and reach for the whole thing and not just the crumbs. I don't want to accept less. I am finding less to be unacceptable, most likely because it is. It certainly is when standing right there, right next to more. I still want more.
And we were in the field, and my guys were doing that thing sparked up in a long car ride months and months ago with an old friend, and now it was living before my lens. There were a few seconds there when I was gliding around, racing the rain, desperate to catch the boundless joy that can't live in a frame, when everyone was perfect. Everyone was beautiful.
It's hard to say where the best parts of these days live after they're gone. In the middle of a field somewhere, there was a shining gift for the taking. I took it and I like to think everyone else did too.