The Photographer

The photographer sat on the pier watching the sun change the clouds. It was late and a bit chilly with a slight breeze ruffling his shirt, but it was such a beautiful evening. The photographer had seen some awesome photographs of sunsets, but nothing compared to experiencing it firsthand, on the water, the reflection making it doubly so.

As he relaxed, the photographer was thinking of another sunset. Many years ago, he and a girl a little younger than him, were standing on a long ridge over looking a valley. Hand in hand they talked about their future, what it would hold, and how anxious they were to begin. He’d asked her to spend it with him, and she’d said simply “yes.” That was all they needed, but it was beautiful.

Their life together was filled with happiness, trust, heartbreak, and boundless joy. They laughed together and cried together, sometimes both in a single moment. They stayed together. In a time when their acquaintances simply existed, they were flourishing.

They learned many things, about each other and about themselves, but the most important thing they learned was to cherish time. Even the hard times were precious, because there was so much to grow by and learn.

He hadn’t always been a photographer. In fact he’d never had any interest in taking pictures, preserving moments. For him, it was enough simply to live them, but she mad him realize memories were part of life too. To look at beauty gone by, to see happiness past, was another of life’s little joys.

Pictures of them together were her favorite. She just knew each time one was taken that it would show to who ever looked at it the joy of their love. Her exuberance for pictures was contagious, and not long after they were married, he found himself critiquing and perfecting his own photography skills. Soon it was he who instigated the photo sessions, and grabbed the camera on the way out the door for a road trip.

They traveled many miles, always stopping to capture the beauty and emotion of the moment. And when the children were grown and spread across five states, the couple had their pictures to keep their house full. The children and grandchildren loved to look at all the pictures from years gone by. They’d either reminisce or beg for a story that would set the family all rolling from their chairs and clutching their stomachs.

As the wind got colder the clouds went from pink to purple to blue, and the sun disappeared below the water. The photographer looked up and a sigh of pleasure filled his chest. “Thank you, Lord,” he said.