Somewhere along the way, many of us bought in to the myth of “having it all”. It’s bunk. We realize that now—at least I hope we do.
All one has to do is pay attention to nature to see that there’s a reason for different seasons. Each one is unique, and each has its own beauty and wisdom. Imagine the confusion of a perpetual winter-spring-summer-autumn.
And so it is there is wisdom in picking up and putting down things in our life. In 2019, I set aside photography in favor of finishing the work of writing a new book. I missed the world I became part of through the lens of my camera but I chose a season of words. I knew I’d return to photography in good time.
That time is now.
Two days ago we drove all over town looking for cut tulips and found an overpriced pink bunch that was worth every penny I paid. Yesterday afternoon I spent an hour or so in the good company of my camera, macro lens, and those tulips reminding myself of the gifts photography gives.
I’m rusty. It will take time to get my groove back. But, man, did I enjoy the time. The slow, meditative practice and the pockets and curls of waxy petals you don’t see unless you pause, pay attention, and look closely, combine to create pure magic.
I sensed a season start to turn.
This morning I wake and I am sixty-one and it feels like a fresh start. I can’t imagine what beautiful and terrible things await in the coming year. I won’t even try. But in tulips, and other magical things I examine through my macro lens, I’ll find wisdom and wonder. Of that I’m certain.