Hallelujah, Feel the Wind

He didn't even know I was taking a picture. Good thing I guess. Maybe that's the magic of it.

The roots from the tree that had outlasted generations twisted into the ground. Strong and firm. Powerful and quiet. You knew they were there without being told. You knew what they were saying without hearing it.

The water undulated gracefully in the background. Just trying to mirror the endless woods that neighboured it.

And in the midst of such everlasting strength was him. Looking down as he climbed up the hill, gingerly stepping over the roots. I would've never gotten the picture if he hadn't been looking down. 

I don't know why- but that picture seems to represent a piece of life as I knew it- and am quickly learning to live without. 

Just when I thought it was like the unyielding roots he stood upon and the symbolic tree he leaned against- silently strong and seemingly eternal- the winds of change blew. And this mirage living on the face of the water- this representation of a time- shuddered violently and disappeared. Before I'd even noticed the wind; the reflection was gone. The water was ebbing, flowing, and ultimately changing. And my idea of reality- my only blueprint of happiness at the time- floated away.

 

I'm so happy I got that photo. Captured a moment in time. Captured a lot of things.