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When A Picture Isn’t Worth a Thousand Words

As I was brewing my coffee this morning, a rich peppermint mocha blend that isn’t “in season” but that I was in the mood for, I found myself wishing that I could take a picture of how it smells. I don’t have the words to describe how delectable the aroma filling my kitchen was.

That’s where I struggle the most as a writer. I want to be able to describe the scene so the reader feels as if they were there. The smells, the sounds, the feel of the breeze or the sun or the rain on your skin. I can take pictures with my camera, but they don’t tell you the whole story. Good writers draw a picture with their words. And I want to get better at that. To do that, I think a person has to experience it and then write about it. 

Yesterday my friend and I went to the lake to look at the sailboats. She had never been, I had been once before. I had taken pictures once before. When we got out of the car, it felt like I was experiencing it for the first time. I had forgotten the sounds at the marina. You can’t hear them in photographs. If you had been around sailboats or marinas I suppose you could draw on your memories, but for those of us who haven’t had a lot of exposure, the sounds and smells are just as wonderful as the sights. The geese squawking. The bell clanging. The water lapping the shore. A fish jumping in the distance.

You can’t feel the stillness of the heron perched for it’s catch. Or the deer grazing in the meadow, never taking his eyes off you. 

It’s true, video can help you experience those things. But what about the smells? I don’t even know how to begin to describe the smell of the lake. Or the clean air in the middle of nowhere. 

What about the feel of the sprinkles hitting your nose? Or the crisp, cool breeze chilling your skin?

How do you experience all of that in a photograph?

The truth is, you can’t, unless you allow yourself to pull from memories you might have stored. But if you don’t have those memories, it’s hard to fully know the experience. It’s not the same as being there. Cliche, but true. All the photos and the words in the world can’t replace experiencing something first-hand. 

By all means, continue to read books, look at photos, watch videos, take “virtual tours”, but most of all, get out there and experience it for yourself! Adventure awaits! And take a friend along to share it with!

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Connections

It’s been a good weekend. Saturday morning I finished a book and then got busy getting things ready for Father’s Day today. 

I received a text from a friend asking if I wanted to do lunch, so I went. The food was good and the restaurant was quiet. We sat and lingered over Dr. Pepper and conversation long after the food was finished and the plates had been taken. Connection.

After lunch I joined Mike at my in-law’s house. We started looking through old photos and the next thing we knew it was 7pm. A quick break for dinner, and then we opened another box of photos. We sat and looked and listened to stories from the past. Connection. 

Looking through all those photos got me thinking that this is something that my children and grandchildren will probably never do. Everything is digitized now. People don’t have hard copy photos in boxes and those photo albums with the clingy protector sheets. We have zip drives and the cloud and social media. It’s just not the same as holding history in your hands. The same history that your parents and grandparents held in their hands. Your fingerprints merge with theirs on the paper. The oils on your hands, the scent…you just don’t get that connection with the cloud.

I brought home some old photos to restore. Yes, I will have a digital copy, but I will also preserve the original and the stories that go with them to pass down to the next generation. Connection.

Today the boys came and grilled and we celebrated Mike on Father’s Day. Of course, Mike and I were so tired from being out late the night before that we weren’t very good hosts, but it was good to have the boys here. Connection.

Tomorrow an old friend and I are going on a photo venture to Stockton Lake Marina to see some sailboats and look around a bit. Then another stop at Hulston Mill Historical Park. We’ve packed our lunches and are ready for exploring just like we used to do on Saturday mornings when we were kids. It’s great to have friends who have your history. Old friends who are as comfy as your old college sweatshirt. Connections that are as old as life itself. 

The older I get, the more I want quality connections over quantity. Lingering over Dr. Peppers in the corner of a quiet restaurant. Looking through photos and listening to the stories. Sharing those photos and stories with the next generation. My adult children coming for Sunday lunches. Road trips with childhood friends. Those are the kinds of connections I crave. Those are the kinds of connections I will seek. 

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Current Mood

I sure know how that guy feels right now–staring out the window wishing he could go.

A little backstory. This is Copper. Copper is “grounded” because he didn’t come in the night before when it was time for bed. He loves the outdoors, but since we live in the middle of the woods and he’s white, he’s prime coyote bait. Or bear. Or whatever else lurks around out there after dark.

But I totally get the gazing out the window, wanting to go somewhere look in his eye. I’ve had it before. I have it now.

I need some adventure. Not drama. Drama and adventure are two different things. I like the predictable-ness of my life. I love the safe space that I have where I spend most of my time.

Sometimes, though, I just want to get away for a bit. Take the camera and go for a drive. Pack up the camper and spend a couple days by the water. Try out a new coffee shop. Spend the day rummaging through flea markets.

Days like that are good for the soul.