Coming To Be

I met another photographer in the garden today, and we compared stories. She is a stay-home mom who picked up a camera one day and found that it fulfills something within her that needed filling. I have a similar story about something that needed filling, but we don't need to canvass it here. When this lady asked me what kind of photos I like to take, I struggled to explain how I am interested in impressionist, or watercolor, photography. She looked at me curiously, obviously not grasping what I was saying. She is interested in portraits of children. I can understand why she did not seem to relate to what I was saying. 

We parted company and I went back to taking pictures. I called back to her that she really would be interested in the stargazer lilies, which were putting on quite a show in the wedding garden. She responded politely, but she never did come back that way. I believe she was chasing butterflies, and I hope she had great success. A short time later, I was sitting on a bench, contemplating an arched doorway a few feet away. A single branch of a climbing rose was trailing down into the open arch, drifting gently back and forth with the soft, cool breeze. It knew it was calling me, but several shots later, foiled by a very fickle sun, I still had taken not a single shot with which I was satisfied. And so, a little frustrated, I stood up, composed myself to go on my way, and walked ahead, under the branch, and through the arch toward the formal rose garden beyond.

The reason we're here right now is that I have tried to train myself to always stop and look back because, sometimes, the best shots are the last shots. And so it was today. The light looking back was perfect. 

By Divine Ms. Moon

I stood there for a while after I finished taking photos in that spot, wishing the lady I met could have been there in that moment, so I could have shown her the photographer that I am coming to be.

I think she would have understood.