It’s that time of the year again. The days are noticeably shorter. The darkness which sandwiches the daylight now lingers longer. The light recedes sooner. This time of year is a teacher. It teaches me about intention and wonder. I have to be more intentional about making the time to pick up my camera. I have to plot and scheme to take advantage of the few hours of daylight. And when I get out there, I am often surprised (again) to be encountered by Wonder.

Like that evening many many months ago when I remembered that I had seen a line of wisteria trees while out on a walk. I left dinner on the counter, mid-prep, to go and see those trees in the evening light.

I knew that something magical would happen as the sun continued to set and the trees swayed gently in the breeze.

As the light continued to slip away, I was filled with wonder at how the changing light revealed new dimensions of beauty there. What newness is lurking in the shifting light?

I have been tired and heartsick over all the communities suffering so much loss lately. There have been (and continue to be) all varieties of horrors and griefs both near and far. It seems so frivolous to think and talk about beauty now.

I think about this a lot. Does a photograph help when it seems like the world is on fire? That was the opening line of one of my previous posts. But I think a better, perhaps more interesting question is, why do we keep looking for, creating, and sharing Beauty even when the world is on fire?

It is an affirmation of life. It is an act of hope. For me anyway. On my best days.

May we continue to look, create, and share, no matter how dim is the light.

-Eyes wide open, Chinwe