Sometimes I forget how much I enjoy playing with my camera. Weeks pass without me even touching it, much less thinking about it. We’ll be somewhere and I’ll think “Oh, I should have brought my camera,” using my iPhone instead.
And then those times that I do pick it up, I remember why I love it. How natural it feels, like an extension of me. Seeing that moment captured in an instant — and a lifetime.
We drove eight hours Saturday, to Tennessee and back, so my husband could see his brother for the first time in 18 months. Our little kids played together, sussing out quickly the roles that cousins play.
And I brought my much-neglected camera, forgetting it in the car for most of the day.
The kids accommodated me for only a few minutes, but that was all it took. Giggles and smiles and little faces captured just so. Personalities shining through.
People who don’t know me very well have accused me of hiding behind my camera, using it as a means for avoiding interaction. They don’t see what I see through the viewfinder, the enduring connection made with a particular moment and person.
These pictures remind me life is too short to trust every moment to memory. Some just need to be photographed to endure.