Have I shared this photo already? I know I meant to with the little teaser– I’ll tell you what’s on it when I find out! Here’s the story. Right after New Year’s I cleaned out some drawers in my kitchen desk and found this roll of exposed 35mm film. I couldn’t remember the last time I used one of my 35mm cameras, though I do like using the small ones I have. But for years I’ve either used a digital or of course, the ever present and easy camera. So, finding this tiny canister was like finding a hidden Christmas present tucked away by one of Santa’s ornery elves–Will someone find it here?! Will they remember what’s on it?! (I had absolutely no clue.)

On January 13^th I took the film to our Walgreen’s, talked with the young woman behind the counter who knew what it was but had only seen them on rare occasions, and dropped it in one of those long envelopes that obviously aren’t used very often. They looked a little yellow around the edges. I was told the pictures would be back in about a week. For the next seven days I wondered what might be on the pictures, hoped maybe there were pictures of my parents. I wondered if it could even be developed, knowing it had to have been years since the film was used.

I went back a week later–no pictures. I went back another week later–no pictures yet. After a month still no photos. The idea I may never know what was on the film just fueled the curiosity and the desire to hold the photos in my hands. One of the workers knew me by face if not by name. When she saw me come in, she’d just shake her head, “They still haven’t come in.” Then one afternoon she called and said, “You’re not going to believe it–they’re here!” It was exactly two months to the day since I first dropped off the film.

Sadly, no late pictures of my parents, but several blurry nature shots of weeds and leaves in a Carolina snow. I’m sure I was going for ‘artistic’ when I took them. There’s one of my youngest son when he was probably six, smiling proudly next to a mound of snow almost as tall as he is. His oldest son just turned seven. When Hubby saw the photo, he thought it was the Grand.

There’s a picture of my daughter’s first cat when Sylvester was just a kitten, her eyes the most beautiful emerald green; and several of our dog Bootsie, a terrier-something mix with a Napolean complex. Bootsie was a drop-off in our woods who quickly adopted us and became our protector. As a single-parent with three children, I appreciated Bootsie’s attentiveness and tendency to stick close to the door.  He could also climb fences.

Two of the photos evoked more than memories. This first one reminded me of Frost’s Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening. On the surface the poem reads like a simple snapshot of an evening ride in a New England snow, but for those who’ve read the poem more than once and more deeply, they recognize the tension in the poem. There’s the quiet snowy night and the lovely woods, set against the horse’s confusion or impatience in stopping and the narrator’s internal disquiet of promises to keep and miles to go before he sleeps–commitments to honor and contributions to make before his death. It’s a beautiful poem in its brevity, and I love this photo.

I missed posting last week because I was stopped by my own snowy woods with promises to keep and miles to go. For whatever reason the weight of our current state of the country weighed more heavily than usual, and I’d not made as much headway on my projects as I’d hoped. I have deadlines to keep! I did finish a poem I’d been working on forever–a form poem I’d not tried before and it was killing me–but overall, just in a funk. My wise friend Jan once told me, when you’re in a funk, you just need to sit in it for a day or two and you’ll come out of it. And so, I did. I spent a day outside getting reacquainted with my gardens and that worked wonders. I also received a letter and an email that were blessings. This week I’m back writing.

This is the other photo that spoke to me.

It reminds me to just keep moving one step at a time. And over the next five weeks I’ll be chopping away at the projects I have on my desk one step at a time–excited about all of them but they all came at the same time! I’ll be sharing more about them later.

A friend told me the forsythia are blooming in Ohio which means only three more snows! My forsythia are still brilliant yellow … at least the remaining flowers. The real yellow now is pollen, dusting like fine pastel snow. It’s the color green that’s taken over in the last week, as if the time change signaled the leaves to unfurl and buds to pop out. Despite the political chaos going on around us, spring brings a sense of joy, and lightness that’s not simply because of longer daylight hours. May all of you be experiencing moments of joy and lightness this week. I do plan to be back on Monday!