The pages of my life turn so fast. I lay in my bed this morning while everyone still slept, and thought of yesterday, sweet yesterday at the park, already a chapter gone by. Everything's ticking, ticking and ticking; the hums and drones and whirs of everydayness measure the bars of this family's life, lived.
Be still so I can catch you, my mind begs the sparkling sunlight as it shimmies up and down a curl sweeping Bean's face. Stay right there, I beseech the gentle breeze that tickles a smiling gasp from the Peabody's kissable lips.
This is why I write, and time's whisking away and re-drawing of every second is the reason the camera's never far out of my busy hands. Writing takes me full-circle around a moment I glanced from just one angle. Oh, the more my heart can see when I gently hold and turn a conversation, a gesture, a thought, until I find and unlock the passage to its real meaning. And in photos I can finally pin down elusive light and color against the flutter of love and laughter and purpose and concentration. Everything's still there, and so much more, in the second look. And the third and fifty-seventh.
Time ticks backwards and stands still - once, twice, forever - in even an amateur's simple studies.
(Originally published at 5 Minutes for Parenting, August 2009.)