Its old charms to give. In photographs only —Edgar A. Guest |
As a photographer, I can relate to the sentiments expressed by Mr. Guest in the above poem. Every time I take a picture, I am very much aware that I am capturing a moment in time, to forever be preserved in my picture. Whether it is a picture of our grandchildren ...
Or a picture of an historical Mississippi landmark that is slowly fading away ...
Each of those pictures is frozen in time — just as it was at the moment I clicked the shutter button: A granddaughter's first kiss for her baby brother when we brought him home from the hospital, on the 13th day of August 2011. The glory of a Yellow Swallowtail Butterfly, as it stopped by our courtyard for a sip of nectar from our Lilac Chaste Tree, on August 12, 2010. And the Windsor Ruins, as they were when my husband and I visited them on the 18th day of February 2008.
Our little Maddox is eight weeks old now ... the butterfly is long gone to wherever butterflies go ... and the centuries-old bricks of the Ruins are slowly, but surely, still crumbling away with the passage of time.
Yes, Time marches on, as they say ... but I am so grateful that at this stage of my life God led me to pursue an interest in photography, and gave me just enough talent to inspire and encourage me to go out and take pictures.
During the past six years, I've taken thousands of pictures, and I've also discovered that behind every picture, there is a story waiting to be told. I love telling those stories and capturing them forever in my pictures — for I have learned that there is a lot of truth to the last line of Mr. Guest's poem ...
