In my mind's eye

There are moments in my life that, even as they occurred, seemed to be suspended in time; it was as if someone had suspended them inside of a dome--a snow-globe of reality--and within that moment I felt as if nothing could touch me. Reality had stopped and I had a brief time to view life from the outside and simply admire the wonder of it.

This is not to say that all of these moments have been wonderful. A twelve year old murder victim one fall, lying on the ground beneath the trees on a residential parkway, lit by the flashing blue lights of responding police cars is preserved as one of these surreal moments; I remember the exact color of the blue autumn sky the day I stepped outside after I got the phone call telling me that my father had just died. I remember the birds flying overhead and the unfair beauty of the day. But also preserved in these bubbles of memory is the memory of  the first time I saw the Northern Lights as I floated on a glass smooth lake late one August; I can lie in bed and recall the comforting, blanket-like silence of the world as I sat by a campfire in the mountains watching stars fall during a meteor shower.

I remember the muffled sounds of the snow falling onto snow in Wisconsin as we returned from a hike with the kids. It was a strange silent day without birds or animals. There was only the sound of snow.  I didn't want to go out that day, but the hike provided me with some of the most beautiful winter images that I still hold in my mind...and it's one of the few suspended moments that I caught on camera and I can revisit it whenever I want to.

Some of these moments are so fleeting that they have become nearly mythic in my mind. I can recall a singular moment that occurred while walking through a stand of Sequoias. I will never forget the image of my children (often rivals, often fighting) holding hands and whispering in conspiratorial friendship. I have no proof that this moment happened. There is no preserved image of their camaraderie except in my mind, and I guard the picture jealously because I don't know if the picture, or their friendship, will last.

Just a few days ago when it snowed I stood in the parking lot at work and looked at the trees, their branches outlined by bright white snow against the dark of the early morning...and I took a picture with my mind. It's there with the rest of them. I don't know for how long, but it's there right now.

Wisconsin-coming back from a hike