The Sixteenth of July


Yesterday, I took a single photograph. Amidst the adventuring and laughing and enjoying a day spent with one of my oldest and best friends, I took just one photo of an insignificant, fleeting moment that was completely irrelevant to everything that came before it.

I take photographs because I want to remember the things that will someday be the distant, dreamlike memories – the ones that swim to the front of your mind once every so often, bring a smile to your face for a second or two, then drift on, disappearing into the back of your mind once more. It was sometime after 9 in the evening when I finally made it home and while my body was tired and in desperate need of rest, my heart was alive and full. These are the days that remind me that some things are best left to our memories.