off the cutting room floor
/The back of my National Geographic magazine has a page that shows one picture that didn't make the cut. One picture that was tossed aside and didn't make it into the preceding pages of stunning photography. Yet there was still something special about the photo. Special enough to rescue it from the cutting room floor and share it at the close of the magazine.
When I go through my week there are many posts that get written in my head that never make it to the blog. And there are many pictures that get taken but never shown. So today, I decided to rescue a few of those shots from my past week or so and share them here together--off my "cutting room" floor, if you will...
There is the picture that is one of my favorites I've taken in a really long time--shot holding my camera out the car window, feeling warm and blessed for the beautiful place where I live and wide open spaces.
The sunset shot, on the same evening that really captured the colors my eyes were seeing.
A day of lingering in the parking lot of the farm, watching the girls roller skate. The lingering that put me in the right place at the right time, to hear someone's cries for help, who was seriously hurt.
The post that made me notice and appreciate an early morning with all my girls in the kitchen with me.
The climax of the Star Magnolia tree outside my grandmother's porch.
The pillow--made for my dear college girlfriend--who sent me "the" envelope--and asked me to put together a package that would reveal the surprise to her and her husband. The pillow says, "oh boy!".....
The rainy day of math disguised as games...that started out so fun, but soon turned to attitude problems and then ended with me, sitting on the floor by myself wondering what happened.
Sometimes it makes me sad, when an idea or a moment, doesn't get shared. Because more often than not, I forget those moments. I've been keeping a five year journal now for the past six months. When I flip through old entries, I'm amazed while reading those four or five lines I jot down each night, how much I've forgotten. It's just the nature of life, I suppose. So maybe I'll start doing this a little more often--rescuing a few photos, a few stories off the cutting room floor at the end of the week. Then just maybe they won't be completely forgotten and that simple sentence or picture will remind me of a moment, a lesson learned, or a beautiful view that I don't want to lose.
