I believe with every bone in my body that sometimes the most profound
moments are simple and usually unexpected.
They catch us off guard.
And it is not until later
that we realize we made a forever kind of memory.
If I were a writer, better yet a poet,
I would reach for a pen and paper and
write as fast as I could.
So they couldn’t escape my grasp.
But I am no poet.
I take photographs instead.
I tell our stories and record our memories with a lens.
So that perhaps 10, 20, 30, or 50 years from now.
When our children are older and perhaps after we have passed.
They can look back and remember the way it felt to be outside on a mild
September day picking apples and sipping spiced apple cider with the
people that they loved.
And remember how important it is to find the time to do the things that
make us happy to be alive.