Hands of Time…..Traces

Time is a tough guardian. It makes memories fade away like writings on sand. The freshness and excitement of a new experience, once so enchanting, dulls like the ink on prayer flags high up on the mountains.

Try as one might, one cannot hold on to too much for too long. Its nature’s way of ensuring that sanity can be preserved in a human being. Yet, some memories defy time and stay ever fresh. That also seems to be for our sanity…I place my hand in my young daughters and instantly a picture is taken by the mind’s eye for safekeeping. This picture will be etched just like the first time her chubby fingers held mine as a baby.

I think of my mother’s hands, showing signs of a lifetime of work… I think of the times they have created ever so lovingly – favourite foods, warm sweaters, blessings, reassurances, prayers…they have never stopped working and weaving their magic. They say hands reveal a person’s age like nothing else can. I say hands reveal how much a person has loved. Time definitely leaves its trace on everything it touches…

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11 November • Minimal Edit

Exquisite !

Snapshooter

Really enjoying taking some photos and not having to process them that much. Here’s one taken in an incredibly bright and orange late afternoon sun, with only minor curve adjustments…

 

© 2013 snapshootergeb.wordpress.com

 

 

Have a good Monday, if you can… =)

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Alegoria

So insightful….!

Intensify It

It was late November. Or April. Or August. I guess it could have been Christmas, but most cafés would have been closed and where else would I have run into you? I’d say it was New Year’s Eve, but that would create too much pressure for one day. What is the best time to meet someone who then proceeds to change your life repeatedly? Is it January? Is it March? Is it a lazy summer day that doesn’t promise much otherwise? I don’t know, so I’ll just go with February. It was February, then.
If it was February, then there were still blankets of snow on the sidewalks and people walking hurriedly with coffee and phones and shopping bags in their hands. I need you to know that, despite this is my story, I was never alone in it. Not until very late anyway, when it was all reduced to what I wanted…

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