A brief moment by the lake before the cool breeze pushed back, then the moment was gone. But, for that moment, an opportunity to commune with the Great Lake, to listen to the song of the waves, to be touched by the fingers of wind as they move through her hair. How many more of these moments exist for her, for any of us?
Alignment, placement, compositional choices.
A walk in the beach, boats on a calm lake and time to enjoy the morning.
Hospitals…a place to find healing and where healing is no longer possible. Entering a hospital can be a positive experience, especially when going in for a treatment that will improve one’s quality of life. But it also can be where a patient can discover that healing is not possible, that our time on this planet is drawing to a close, that it’s time to put affairs in order and prepare goodbyes.
Two years ago I made this journey with my father. Years of fighting a battle that could not be won, finally a few months in hospice before moving on to the next big adventure. Now, two years later, I prepare to walk this journey with my mother. A trip to the hospital, tests run, diagnosis determined, hospice prescribed. She will spend her last days?, weeks? or months? on the shore of Lake Superior. She may see the lake once or twice, or not at all. It all depends on her energy level. But at least she is nearby rather than two hours away. She is minutes away from my home, near the lake that means so much to my wife and me. The winds that blow down the lake carries its spirit over the sand dunes and through the health center, bathing her in the peace of Gitchi Gummi. After ninety-four years, she can rest as the power of the lake carries her, guides her and comforts her on her next grand adventure. As her last breath sighs forth from her frail body, the wind off the lake will carry that breath onward, taking it to places we can only imagine until each of us breathes our last and joins all the other breaths dancing and swirling in the wind.
Although I’m currently traveling, my mind is never far from the inland sea named Lake Superior. While having a bit of quiet time before having to go check in on a family member, I searched through my image collection on my iPad and decided to work on the image below using the mobile versions of Adobe Lightroom and Photoshop. They may not be as robust as the desktop verions, but I was able to arrive at a satisfactory result with a bit of work and even add a watermark (in Photoshop). It would be nice if I could access the watermarks I’ve created on the desktop version.
I really like the image, but I wish the image quality was better.
It’s as though nothing else exists. Hard concrete reality fading into nothingness.
