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It's been quite a while since I've done any real writing. I blog all the time, but lately photography seems to be occupying all of the spaces labeled "creative expression" in my brain. Where once words and ideas swam freely images now travel - rising to the surface almost of their own volition, often preferring to stand on their own, unsullied by explanation.
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Once in a while it is possible to combine the two.
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Last night a group of my dearest friends gathered (as we often do) to share a meal, friendship, and a few bottles of wine. We dedicated our gathering to the memory of my friend's father, who just passed away after a long and difficult illness. To celebrate Frank's life, we made food that he, or others' fathers, liked best, looked at the beautiful photographs he'd taken and talked about his incredible eye for composition, and shared stories of fathers and families. It was a wonderful, loving tribute to a life well lived. At my friend's request, I brought my camera along so that she could share a piece of the evening with her brother and sister back in the United States. I took a number of photos of those gathered, including a beautiful one of my friend and her mother, who had joined us for the evening. .
Eventually the food was eaten, the wine consumed, the dishes cleared away, and the stories concluded. It was time to go home. I walked out with another friend. As we stood chatting on the porch for a moment she noticed a tree covered in the most delightful looking powder puff blooms. I noticed one in particular, set slightly apart and almost seeming to glow in the warm light of the streetlamp, a beacon of color shining out in the black night sky. I looked wistfully at the bloom, saying what a beautiful photo it would make if only I had my camera, when it occurred to me that I DID in fact have my camera slung right over my shoulder at that very moment.
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It was well after midnight when I set my things down in my car and returned with my camera to capture the bloom which had so enchanted me.
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I think Frank would have approved.
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This week's Writers Island prompt was "if only".
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