I was commenting on some photo's on a friend's FaceBook page and came across a posted photograph that he had taken, "somewhere"...possibly (most likely) in the Yosemite area, and found myself stopped dead in my tracks, staring, and experiencing a reaction that I didn't expect to have. It was a beautiful photograph.
Though it was in black and white, you really could see color. There were trees on either side of the bank, climbing up the mountain in the background, majestic pines and other evergreens. If it wasn't an evergreen, it was mostly bare. Standing proud in its barroness, having earned their right to just "let go", for a season at least.
A red brick and mortar bridge, that I am certain was icy cold to the touch, arched over a stream of water that reflected the skies. Puffy white clouds, blue open space and the brightness of the sun that seems like it should have more power to warm the very place it lit up, and yet, if I were actually there I would almost bet I could see my breath in the broad light of day.
The air was crisp, and the only way to stay warm was to wrap yourself in tones of golden yellow and deep, burnt orange-red leaves as they wafted gracefully through the air or just barely hanging on, patiently waiting for their turn to dance their way to the ground as only a falling leaf can. I am certain I could smell the scent of the crushed leaves in the wet mud that hugged the pebbles and rocks along the banks of the body of water under the bridge.
I knew no other way to state what I commented on my friend's photograph other than what I actually said. It was something along the lines of him having photographed "a familiar place I have never been". It wasn't so profound to me at the moment I wrote it. It was simply what I meant, it made sense to me and so I said it. I rarely think first and speak later...we all know how dangerous that can be for me, but I tend to live on the dangerous side in that regard.
And now, as I sit here, watching "You've Got Mail", having just returned from a function earlier this evening, I couldn't help but be excited to get back and write out my thoughts.
I wondered why it was that that scene was familiar though, I am certain I had never been there. As anyone who knows me knows, nothing that goes through my thoughts ever stays in its simplest form for long, so I took it a step further and wondered how often I have missed what was meant to be seen and captured as a snapshot in my mind, just because I just wasn't looking. Of course, I will never know the answer to that this side of heaven, but I do know that today I have learned that I have a choice. I could slow down a little to take it in.
I do enjoy photography and love the eye of a great photographer. I truly appreciate the beauty that is captured as they look at my world, a great big, unimaginably borderless world and memorialize the moments and beauty that I just pass by simply because I move too fast.
See, I think photographers have the unique ability of seeing and experiencing life frame by frame. That is a very cool thing. I think I envy that.
I am not really sure where this is going. This post, I mean. I know that I am not done trying to understand the "familiarity of someplace I have never been", but, rather than rush the thought, I would rather take it a bite at a time.
...Meanwhile, I am going back to look at more pictures...I would venture to guess that there are many other familiar places I have never been.
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