It snowed that morning

this was the biggest day of my life. kinda hard to explain, though i've told the story a hundred times. Two things just made me think of the day, so i found this photo in the stacks. It reminds me of someone special, but also reminds me why i do what I do. Nothing will ever take me back to that moment, and the photo does not tell a story, but for each of us there the picture means something very different but i think for each of us it's a warm memory... seven years have passed, and sometimes it feels like an eternity and sometimes it feels like a moment, but I don't look at this picture and see drama or anxiety or heartache, I see friends... and love... and possibilities and the future.

And I love photographs because they can elicit these sort of feelings. And I'm not gonna rag on digital cameras and excessive accumulation of media, but sometimes a single good photo can do what an entire memory card of snaps cannot. I'm sometimes afraid that the ability to shoot a hundred pictures in a moment may make it more difficult to capture the one that matters because nothing is invested with the click of the shutter. This picture sits inside of an envelope in an old shoebox with a few other decent pictures and many bad ones... And I wouldn't have it any other way.