Ephemeral ice
London, ON, April 2007 [Click to enlarge]
Monday morning. I really need to get to the office, but as I kiss my family goodbye and try to keep the wiggling dog from squeezing out the front door, my eye is drawn toward something that shouldn't exist. Huge icicles have formed on the front porch overhang, and they're capturing and reflecting the morning sun in ways I couldn't describe if I had all the words in the world.
It's April 9th, I think to myself. It makes little sense that the weather is this cold, this late. But it's not my place to question why the water has frozen in such a gorgeous, temporary form. It is my place to capture it before it disappears for good.
I know full well that this will be gone by the time I get home this afternoon. So I turn around, brave the wiggling dog once more and fetch my camera for an impromptu shoot. Once I'm done, a quick onscreen review confirms that I've got workable images, so I head off to work.
Sure enough, when I come home, the temp outside is quite warm, and the overhangs are clear. As I write this four days later, I can't get it out of my head that I was meant to record the ephemeral ice before it disappeared forever. Poignant, really, given the news that came our way later in the week.
Something tells me he would have found this a neat image, one that only I would take. Something tells he he would have been right.
Your turn: Please take the time to capture whatever it is that could disappear. I hope you'll share whatever it (italics deliberate) is in a comment.
This is beautiful Carmi.....your title reminds me of your post from yesterday...
ReplyDeleteSavor the moments.
I'm sorry to hear about the tragic loss of your young friend. He WAS ripped off.
ReplyDeleteI don't even know what is what today, so I can't give you an intellectual answer to your question. All is know is, sanity is sometimes very fleeting.
It's weird, because I'm sitting here, eating the ice from my Dr. Pepper, which is the only edible item remaining from my fast food lunch. It, too, is disappearing, as I capture it between my teeth.
ReplyDeleteOkay, so a very literal interpretation of your prompt.
More wiggling dog pictures, please.
Extraordinary how the ice looks so metallic. I would never have guessed it was ice. Quite lethal looking too.
ReplyDeleteAn example of ephemera I suppose is when I see a fantastic dawn sky from the kitchen and by the time i have dashed upstairs to get my camera the effect has gone.
Michele did send me this time. Last time I was so eager to get here I didn't sign in at Michele's:)
The icicle looks like mercury... beautiful image.
ReplyDelete~S
What can disappear in my house is a 12 year old boy....when he's 13, he'll no longer be 12. I'm only half kidding. ;)
ReplyDeleteHere via michele today!
Carmi, that's a beautiful shot. I cud not visit ur blog yesterday , so when i read the news and then I see this post, its like a beautiful homage to your dear friend .. every single emotion I feel is fleeting ..and i wish i cud capture it on a lens....nevertheless it stays with me and becomes a memory :)
ReplyDeleteI can't get over the molten/metallic look to this icicle either. It's a beautiful image.
ReplyDeleteI think I did that yesterday, Carmi. My photo of a newly built bird nest and the baby birds within. The nest may remain, but the little birds will surely disappear when they learn how to fly.
ReplyDeleteMichele sent me this time.
Michele sent me to tell you that fountain pens are sexy. *wink*
ReplyDeleteSeriously, that ice is some weird stuff. Beautiful, ephemeral. Everything you say, and more. It makes us stop and ponder, doesn't it? How fragile it all is...
Hang in there, my friend. I truly believe that when one friend leaves us, two more come along. Yeah, it's not the same. It can't be the same.
But a lot of times, it's better.
I had to look twice because it looks almost metallic! The words are of equal impact. And I think you're right about your friend liking it.
ReplyDeleteHugs,
Holly
life is fleeting.........
ReplyDeletecarpe diem!!!
Life with a child still at home. We've already watched one mature and fly from the nest to the new and exciting world of college away from home.
ReplyDeleteMy youngest is now a freshman in highschool and I've very aware of the clock ticking on the time we have left with my son still living at home.
I'm trying to capture these moments Carmi. Thanks for the reminder.
Michele sent me again. shephard is right. when i said Metallic I was thinking mercury, Have a good Sunday!
ReplyDeleteIcicle in April? Here in Singapore, our temperature's 34 degree Celsius daily!
ReplyDeleteThat's a beautiful picture. And thanks for reminding me about capturing the things that would disappear.
The birth of my son seems like yesterday but when I look at this fat (hehehe) 15-yr-old half-boy half-man, I can't believe it been so many years. Time waits for no man or woman.....
Although I usually have my camera at the ready, there are times when getting the shot just isn't meant to be. And then I think to myself, "Maybe it was meant to be that way."
ReplyDeleteMike
so sorry to hear about your friend....he's only a couple of years older than i am. yes....a tragedy!
ReplyDeleteThat's tragic about your friend...I'm sorry.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Sarch - about the way children grow up so fast :(