Under The Olive Tree

The Snapshot

She held up the picture – and there in the corner were the burning numbers

04:07:97

“This is my child,”- she said with a smile – “this is my child”. – The Fool

From the little daily departures of our ever increasingly disconnected lives, to the bigger events staring down at us from our past – we take “snapshots” – and we base our opinions, our activities, our consuming, our relationships. – even our legacy – on snapshots.

From JFK to Vietnam – the Berlin Wall, or Columbine – from a TV ad to a movie line –

We put the snapshots in a drawer – and in the case of those events that left their stain indelibly upon our hearts and souls and minds . . .

We take them out again as reference points – we step inside the snapshot and we once again – through images long past – and consequences long ago washed on some distant shore – we live again inside that frame

Remembering our joys – our sorrows, and our pain

And elements there frozen – locked within dimensions of that single plane – the color or the black & white – the people, places and the things – the negative and positive – our aspirations and our dreams – the watershed events defining who we were, and what we gained – or what we lost – so often remembering the cost

These snapshots – just a single point in time – not even seconds – just a blink, a shutter falls – an aperture is set – the film advances, life goes on –

The moon will rise

The sun will set

And tides will ebb and flow

Some things will die

And some will grow

Our snapshot lives are not a true reality – especially when we live again through our most troubled times

The snapshot captures just one frame – and though these pictures can define our experience, our journey

We must not let them rule our present day – though some in their transcendence should be placed for all to see – there are some snapshots that should be filed away – for all eternity.