It was nearly nine in the evening and the entire world was painted a shade of pink that only happens after the sun dips below the horizon on a hazy summer night. The lake was calm and quiet, a phenomenon that is rather unusual for the Fourth. Hundreds of lakeside campfires tinged the air with the smell of smoke and in that moment, how could anyone feel anything other than perfect peace? It was the kind of night where everything beyond it becomes hazy and nothing is more important than existing in the present.
In hindsight, I wish I would have captured a little less and experienced a little more. As someone who loves taking photographs, it is sometimes difficult to put my camera down and simply exist in the moments I’m capturing. Sometimes I think I worry too much about that perfect shot and too little about those perfect moments. Maybe this is simply a side effect of viewing the world as a work of art. You want to capture it all. You want to remember it all. But sometimes, you have to know where to draw the line.