Most of the time, she doesn't want to be photographed. So when the rare occasion comes and she's okay with it, I always feel like I'm making up for lost time.
Cameras/capturing photos is such a double edged sword, to me.
It makes moments like this possible to hold on to, in one sense, forever... but also not. All you get is the image. You can never go back to that glorious moment to truly relish it. And therein lies the sadness of photographs (in both their capture and revisitation), as well as their beauty.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm taking too many pictures. I have to walk the line of what I need to simply enjoy in that moment and what would be worth capturing to share with another or with a future version of the ones encapsulated within.
In any case I'm trying not to miss (too terribly much) the moments that are already passing as I experience them, sifting through my fingers like so many grains of sand.
How do you fully enjoy a moment and not somehow also feel a twinge of sadness that there will never be another like it?
I think the secret perhaps lies simply in that - both in its perfect uniqueness AND its fleeting nature. What's more beautiful than something so rare as every perfectly distinct second of our ever-transforming lives?
Some last minute #leprechaun trap adjustments before bed
She made a pre addressed blank note to herself for the leprechaun to fill out.♀️
And, tortilla chips are apparently essential to catching a leprechaun in case you were wondering......