June. It is the sunrise of our memories. A heated sun that forms the first imprints of our soul in the shaded grass: barefoot, running, squelching in muddy sprinklers and dancing in the torrents of deep thunderstorms across the heated plains of our childhood. The air slowly becomes heavy with heat and our skin prickles with sweat and sunshine. We toss in our beds, waiting to wake, waiting to throw back our covers, breath in the morning air; waiting to sip the days splendor before the dew dries and escapes into the rays of unrelenting waves of the sun’s glare.
I am in love with June; the dangling my feet off the end of the pool, the wading into deep creeks. I love the faded schedules and the lullaby song of the cricket’s call; the unstructured dance and the free fall whims. In this slow song of summer, I want to slow the click of my camera, allow the wind’s unstructured symphony of summer to sing through my heart and my eyes.
I want to find the poetry behind my lens, find my voice so I can sing it a bit better when school returns, when schedules are more set. With this un-schooling of summer, I want to un-school my lens, un-school my images; let the lessening load of summer happen behind my camera as well -let the images I take and the moments I capture mean more.
What are you doing this summer? What will you find hidden in your gardens, under the shade of flowers, following alongside the muddied footprints of your children? What images to do you want to pull from your heart? What things will you find there?