Grateful for a Photograph

I am grateful for a photograph, the capturing of an image as it was, and a memory as I can recall. Memory, or at least mine, more closely mimics the role of a typewriter than a camera. Inevitably, my story changes, and neither for the better nor the worse. It just changes, progressing to new chapters as old memories fade and new ones press. Yet, a photograph remains and whether digitized or developed on film, a photograph stays true to itself as a snapshot of a moment. As I reminisce on past photos, this time, the pictures feel different. While my friends, family, and I still smile back the same and while the cities and mountains still stand tall in the background, the memory has morphed. I’ve changed and will continue to change, a process I can expect as long as I live. When I pick up a photograph and feel its nostalgia, I can recall the person inside it, as I was, and I can feel the person as I am. Photograph in hand, the difference between the then and now is palpable.

When watching a flowing river, it’s challenging to gauge the current when nothing floats and when there are no rapids. The river may seem very lazy, especially on the surface. However, when you introduce an object that floats, that hovers above the current, you can measure its speed and ferocity. The river flows indeed.

I am grateful for a photograph.