I honestly cannot recall if I put much thought into what a good photograph was before I became a mother. Time was different then; the desire to bring a moment to complete stillness rarely came with such urgency. Time felt very available.
Time is still available in my world of mamahood, but it comes with more urgency now. I have aquired this instinct, a mother’s instinct, and with it comes a sense of urgency to capture a look, the folds of skin on the tiniest hands and feet, the sparkle in their eyes, the exact way he sat in the park that day when the tree above him was kissing the sky.
We went to the park the other day. There was a certain quietness all around us. The bare branches on the trees swayed ever so gently. The geese sat soaking in the sun. This day, like most days now, begs me to find the stillness in my life. Mamahood has taught me to loosen my grip a little, to pay a whole lot of attention, to find beauty in the small things that happen every day. I was aware of these things before Theo and Sullivan came into my life, just not as urgently.
My camera has become my coveted tool. Behind the lens I am whole. The moments that make up my life now have taught me what a beautiful photograph is.
As we walked home from the park, I looked up at the sky. The clouds were captivating. I stopped pushing the stroller and got my camera back out. Theo exclaimed, “Another one, mama?”
“Yes, Theo. Just one more.”
Because I don’t ever want to forget what this beautiful February day felt like. Or how the clouds looked like a giant lobster in a perfectly blue ocean.