I took the photographs above knowing they wouldn't do the trick, that they wouldn't capture the moment. Because some moments are like that. They're more than just about the visual.
The first time I realized that, I was standing on a rocky outcropping above Rifugio Lagazuoi in the Dolomite mountains. Think of them as the Italian Alps and I'm standing above the rifugio, the shelter, at nine thousand twenty-eight feet in elevation.
And yes, the air is thinner up there.
Anyway...
The production crew's done shooting for the day and the sun's going down, casting a reddish hue across the Dolomites. There's no snow here, by the way. It's all rock. Massive, epic rock and rock formations reaching to the heavens. And I'm standing amidst all of that. I'm experiencing this very moment as a tiny spec in the universe.
Now, I don't remember if I had my camera with me or if I simply chose not to use it. What I do remember is willing myself to absorb this moment, to fully experience it and, in so doing, guarantee a permanent home in my memory. I remember consciously focusing myself to become aware of every sensation, every perception. To see it in all 360 degrees, to hear it clearly, to feel the fading warmth of the sun and the movement of wind amidst the alpine terrain, and to recognize feelings of overwhelming wonder and fear captured in a singular moment.
There are no guardrails up there, in case I haven't mentioned it. Hence, the relentless, albeit imagined, possibility of falling thousands of feet to my death surrounded by this profound beauty.
Yeah. A photograph was never gonna represent that experience faithfully.
Fast forward many, many years and it's the same kind of experience without the fear and wonder. This time it's peace and relaxation, a moment of closure after a postponed trip to check on the health of Kimmer's aunt, a trip that itself comes on the heels of a thoroughly involved move from our former apartment to our current house, a move with elements that are still in motion.
So we're sitting on the patio of her cousin's home. Having drinks. The sun's going down on the other side of a stand of trees behind Kimmer. The sun's going down on the other side of that same stand of trees in front of me. There's a bit of wind, the sound of birds, and diamonds of sunlight that occasionally poke through the trees.
At this point, we're embraced by the shade from those trees. The sun's behind me a few feet, edging further and further away.
And that's it.
A moment of peace.
A sustained moment of peacefulness.
A moment that's wider than the frame of any photograph and, along with the feel of the breeze and the music of birds, fully embodies, fully feels like...
Peacefulness.
And yeah.
My photographs were never gonna represent that experience faithfully.
☺️