Yesterday, I was driving to town and passed the most extraordinary image of sunlight pouring through white-icy branches– it was one of those fairy tale explosions of magical, shimmery sparkle and I shook my head at the fact that, yet again, I did not have my camera with me.
And then, as I continued to drive by I processed the thought series where I told myself even if I had the camera with me, I wouldn’t have stopped because I’m all ideas, no action– always sitting in a puddle of discouragement and inertia.
You know, just one of those nice car chats I like to have with myself.
My camera was inches from my hand. Did I reach for it?
Nope. Reached for my coffee. I had tried for these shots before. I knew it was a hopeless cause. The best angle was right from my desk– but through the screens (which I wasn’t about to remove) the shot was lost. I could try and run out to the snow in my boots and leggings– but the light would be gone by then– I’d been through that before, too.
Hmmm, do we detect a certain FATALIST spirit here this morning?
Nothing that some time and tea and, you know, flipping time— won’t cure, but man I was not in a happy place last night that had everything to do with me, my headspace and not another thing in the world– and I share that only because I have talked to not less than three people in the past few days who have been struggling with the dark side and so I want to put it out there that we ALL struggle with the dark side. You are not alone.
You know, just in case you thought you were. You’re not.
So there I am this morning– a beyond splendorous cinema verite of glistening branches putting on a show fit for Radio City Music Hall and I’m pissing and moaning cause I want to capture it on film and I know it is beyond me.
And then, in a fit of — oh FINE, whatever– I pull on boots and plunge out into the nearly waist-deep snow (I am so not kidding) and with crazy lunges while trying to protect my camera I managed to get sort of, somewhat, under the apple tree to take some shots.
But, as expected– the shot eluded me. Simply could not– the trees danced and shook. The sun continued to illuminate their sparkling branches and I could. not. get. the shot.
Clearly, the universe was taunting me.
I body-lunge-surfed across the snow back to the porch and climbed the stairs. At the top, again– there was the shot– again through a screened window. This time, I took the screen down and opened the window. Again, I could. not. get. the. shot.
So here I am. STILL the sun is pouring down onto the branches– and I am about to take the dogs for a walk but I am leaving the flipping camera behind. There is only so much frustration I can take for one day.
It is time to let it go and say– that’ll do pig– and move on.