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Posts Tagged ‘blue’

The camera lay around the photographer’s neck at the ready as he traversed the paved path through the cities park.  His sharp eyes had spotted nothing of interest thus far.  Once or twice he’d put the camera to his eye and snapped a picture just see if anything came to light once developed.  But, today, the subject matter along this path fell short of what he deemed worthy to capture along his daily hike.

He gazed up at the sky and wondered if rain would fall from roils of brooding grey clouds above him. Dismal, that is what the day was.  This park was dismal and empty as well – no subject matter or maybe; he was just bored of the same ol’, same ol’.

His mood was beginning to match the atmosphere – dark and foreboding, such a waste of his efforts thus far with his camera.  This path, a tried and true one, was a bust.  Perhaps if he were to deviate from this path and take the detour ahead toward the water’s edge, it would scare up something interesting to photograph.

He stepped on the narrow dirt trail and followed it as it wound downward toward the river’s edge ducking wayward branches and stepping over deadfall as hiked toward the water.  Not far in the distance, he could see an opening in the trail that opened to the river.  Not a great photo but he knelt and snapped a picture which depicted how opposites can sometimes enhance one another. It was a serene entrance guarded by what appeared to be atmospheric turbulence in the distance. It should have a sign posted that reads, “Enter at your own risk,” he thought crassly.

The disturbing and depressing inner revelation of his own mind surprised him. No matter, he shrugged.  Darkness can be corrected. Lightness and color could be added via filters which would enhance beauty where nature lacked it.  

He continued forward with renewed purpose, that is when he spotted a target worthy enough to freeze in time. 

If only he could capture the moment!

Quietly, he slid into position.  First kneeling and then adjusting himself into the prone position.

He reached for the camera and removed the lens cap while he stalked the target with his eyes. 

She belied beauty as she sat unaware of his presence on a felled tree, mesmerized by the lapping, flowing water at the river’s edge.

The frailty of the target in a moment of serene strength had him awe struck.  Her beauty glowed against the angry, brooding clouds in the back-ground and portrayed the mood which this picture would encapsulate.  It was perfect. She was beautiful.

He’d call this potential award winner, “Moody Blue.”  He could see this infamous picture framed in gold.

Slowly, deliberately, he moved the camera to his eye, first playing with the focus then readying his finger to snap the shot.  He could feel the excitement build; his heart pounded and his breath quickened as he fought to steady it in this moment where perfection lingered at his finger-tip.  It wouldn’t do to ruin this picture with a shaky hand. A photographer, like any good hunter, needs a steady hand to shoot its target – breath control is everything.  His breath eased slowly from his lips as his index finger hovered ready for action.

“Steady,” he breathed as a clap of thunder erupted above him and a wisp of wind drove a raindrop into his eye. Jerking in surprise, he snapped the shot.

When he opened his eyes again, his target had vanished as had the perfect moment in time.

Years later, the photographer admits to pulling out the discarded, wayward snap shot.  He says it still makes him feel moody and blue. Yet, he continues to wonder what would have happened if he’d had the courage to talk to the beauty on the river’s edge that day instead of trying to freeze her – unaware – in a moment of time.  

His only award from that day is in a still memory.  What might have been a picture perfect moment gilded in gold is now only something locked away in his personal memory bank for no other but him to admire.

And, ‘Moody Blue,’ that’s the depression he feels on days with roiling grey clouds devoid of a picturesque beauty. They remind him of the gloomy rain day when he missed a moment meant to be frozen in time only to re-live a harsh lesson from time to time – when you live your life through a lens, don’t blink or you’ll miss it.

 

Thank-you for following, reading, sharing and commentingThe Trefoil Muse

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Blue

She was giving and kind. They worshipped her like a Saint.  She was of the earth and moved about the land like a breath of fresh air.

They said he was the Devil.  His was a craggy, worn exterior.  People avoided him.  He was hard they observed – probably cruel.  He was fire and ice.  He’d burn you if he could.

No one knew for certain how they’d come upon one another but they were concerned for she epitomized all that was good – but he was evil.

It was pure magnetism that pulled them together.  Opposites attract or so it is said.

It so happened that she’d heard a sorrowful sound and followed it until she happened upon him.  When she’d found him, he was like a pool of iced over water cracking, groaning and crying for help.  He craved warmth, she could see it.  The magic happened when she looked beyond his icy blue depths and into his soul.

To him, she was like a downy white quilt that wrapped his hardened exterior in warmth.  When he looked into the darkness beyond her eyes – that is when he melted.

She held out her hand and he readily took it.  Holding her tightly in his arms, he waltzed with her over the tapestry of the earth to music of the Universe.

With their spirits entwined, they balanced and danced, bringing the world alive with beauty.

And, the people worried over the change in him.  It seemed unnatural.

Now, consensus is that she’s a Sorceress – wicked.

While he…, he is merely a man who has fallen under her spell.

‘But not all opinions are equal,’ she reasoned. And, she did not hold the opinions of others.

She had awareness; an awareness that the others did not; for she knew what had happened when the eyes of fire and ice met the eyes of earth and air – two souls collided and became one.

‘Eyes are the windows to the soul,’ she knew and she knew the power of ‘love.’

She held the opinion, ‘When souls unite in balance and beauty, love is neither wicked nor evil.  Love is a gift found within the eyes for any who dare look into their depths.’

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