Cold and humidity streaked across the prairies in late December, leaving a wonderland of hoarfrost in its wake. I drove down the Yellowhead enchanted - well, my husband drove. I shifted between staring out the window and trying to capture all that magic with my phone. I waffled between snapping as many shots as I could manage and just soaking it all in without a worry of documenting for the future.
It's becoming a common battle when the highway meets my smart phone. There's more beauty stretching out to the horizon than I could possibly glean. I come back from our five-hour journey between hometowns of then and now with an overwhelming collection of slightly varied skyscapes, hills, and wetlands, mostly marred by the review mirror poking in the corner of the frame. I'm only learning how to edit, how cull my hoard and press delete.
Isn't it strange that it can feel selfish not to try to share everything we see? The network in my pocket lets me spread these drive-by delights, but it puts a pressure on the beholder that didn't exist before. Is it possible to be truly present without keeping the moment private? How can I really see when I'm busy shouting "look what I saw"?
I want to devour this feast of the eye but also save it for later. Someday I'll have to accept that I can't have my frosting and eat it too. In meantime, though, I've saved you a nibble.
I hope your holidays all held such wonders of their own.