In the year or so that it took to capture these four shots, we weathered multiple lock downs. We finished with diapers, and someone lost a tooth. We looked for ways to love each other better. To be slower to anger and quicker to laugh. We made ice cream (a lot).
We learned to listen to the rhythm of the earth. To breath deeper. The drumming of our feet on the ground with this tree as melody and then as back beat.
Spring was full of unknowns— a going inside just as the buds were bursting forth.
Then summer, quiet and hopeful, magic with the recognition of the present.
Fall was majestic in its hues and we needed the its warmth more than usual.
Winter was quiet, but cozy. With snow on 1st of December, the silent Christmas markets echoed in the streets. But the season was joyous and we made our own merry.
Then in the saddest weeks of January, the most beautiful winter of my life covered the earth with blankets of comforting snow. The sparkling flakes a balm for the ache and the shock of loss.
This year spring came again. As it does. Reminder of miracles that it is. But it took its time. As if it didn’t want to intrude, it didn’t come before we were ready. It was the coldest spring I can remember but the flowers seemed to love it. Abundant blooms with fragrant cascades, bird’s nests full of eggs whispering, “nothing real ever goes away.”
Laurie's Franconia 