Time, present and past. Frozen moments, remembered and forgotten. Beauty, ordinary and extraordinary.
Photographic power reveals in light and dark what my mother looked like as a young girl, or my father as he welcomed me to the world, or myself as I smiled between brother and sister whose faces are only visible in black and white now.
Lost faces, missed warmth, people linger in shades, lines, and shapes, like hieroglyphics of the past.
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: For World Photography Day today, I offer this ode, in gratitude for how concrete my memories are, of times past.