In these quiet days at the end of the year, I’ve been mulling over what I’ve done — whether it’s been worth my time — and what I accomplished — whether it was any good. I skimmed my (oh-so-disorganized) photo files for a clue about how to sum up the year. It turns out I didn’t take nearly as many pictures as I thought I had. It turns out not all of them are as good as I thought they were. But that’s ok. Everyone has to start somewhere, right?
And that was the theme of the year: starting somewhere. I may not have gotten anywhere yet, but I’m on the move, doing and learning as I go.
This December seems ages away from my January tramps through the damp-but-not-frozen woods, the April wildfire I watched burn from my office, and from those gloriously illuminated, mosquito-infested sunset walks of June and July. If nothing else, the photos are proof that it has been one whole year, that the planet did dance around the sun, and life carried on waking and growing and eating and reproducing after its kind, and slowly coming to a deserved rest (for some) while the night lengthened and the woods grew still. I’m going to carry that stillness with me into this new January, with my heart and eyes open.
Here’s to a new year full of light.