Sometimes a photograph doesn’t really mean anything to anyone but you. Only you know the price you paid to shoot it. Only you know the way your pulse quickened as you saw it line up within your viewfinder. Only you know how it fit into the context of your day. Only you know the hidden story, written behind the pixels of every image that you create.
I did not travel far to make this photograph — just a few feet from my front door. I did not risk my life or use a special technique or even put a great deal of effort into it. It is not the best photograph I have ever taken, and it is not likely to win any awards. But it means a lot to me because of the story that it tells. The story that only one other person knows. And wrapped up in it all is a message of salvation, of redemption, of forgiveness, of hope, of friendship. A promise for the future. A whisper of winter’s end.
Like the branches of a tree, sometimes we reach out blindly, desperately searching for the light. And sometimes, when we least expect it, another soul reaches back, not to pull us out of the darkness, but to offer a far more noble purpose — to be there with us as we stand in its depths, to walk beside us as we journey through Hell and back.
You might write this photograph off as another pretty day, but I know better. And I suspect that one other person does as well.
So to that one person, thank you. Always. Both truly and sarcastically ;-).
Music of the day: Let Go by Frou Froutagged Alabama, Northport, trees