bloom: an ode to spring

Today I went on a nature walk of sorts both because I haven't seen the sun in a few days and because the weather here is finally inching into spring. I use the term nature walk loosely because nothing particularly gorgeous ends up growing around my neighborhood, so essentially I was photographing attractive weeds.

Spring is on it's way; we can feel it in our bones and on the breeze. 



Tastes of summer for a certain ginger's birthday last Saturday. Our group of giggling, gangly teenage girls each got two scoops at around eleven o'clock and then pounded out Say Something on piano and harmonized to our audience of no one.

Life is really good sometimes.


portraits | hannah

This past weekend I was able to photograph a girl who is very dear to my heart. Hannah has been such a sweet sister in christ and friend for a few years now, and I am so glad that I am able to spend these years before college with her. 

Hannah is a dancer, and one of the most creative minds that I know. She is always willing to plan ideas out step by step, no matter how crazy. Her brain never stops.



tasting summer

Today felt like summer. In these moments, I can measure the season, sneaking up on us with its warmer auras and longer daylights. 

Schoolwork does not cease, but it seems easier to get done somehow. The wind coming through the open car windows tastes of freshly cut grass and sunlight. 

Everyday moments hold more significance to me lately, perhaps because I've realized how fleeting they are, and how old I've grown.

Soon the time will come for new discoveries and barefoot runs across soft summer grass. Soon we will relish in the tan of a golden day and make ice cream runs every afternoon for no reason except the celebration of life itself.



a light dusting

It snowed overnight.
For us, that means that you can still see the tips of the blades of grass in the yard, that it's impossible to build a snowman, and that the flakes gracing our heads are no bigger than grains of salt. 

But we still relish in the classic simplicity that is a snow day. Our toes start to shiver through our boots but we press on because we want one more half hour of catching snowflakes. My hair gets stringy and I have to constantly push it away from my face, which I can no longer feel despite the scarf wrapped tightly around it. Flakes stand out like stars with my black coat sleeve as a backdrop. 

courtesy of my lovely mother

The little ones are determined to scrape together a snow creature, and the puppy is confused as to why all of his toy balls have deflated. I haven't picked up the camera in a while; my main struggle becomes the best way to capture the glittering flakes through my lens as they hit the sun. 

It's days like these that remind me how beautiful ordinary life can be. That I need to remind myself constantly to slow down. It is my largest struggle. 
Slow down and gaze as the snow falls like a veil. Slow down as the hot chocolate cools. Slow down and capture beautiful moments. They won't be here forever. 

It snowed overnight because spring arrived on Sunday and this city's weather is very confused. But I am surprisingly okay with watching our own little dusting of white stuff fall, get some room straightening done, and finishing up school projects. Now is the time to practice some piano, write some poems, and read from the stack of to-finish books next to the bed. 

Now is the time to remember that sometimes it's okay to cancel plans and regroup. 

It's time to write new blog posts, start new novels, and brush up the camera skills. Journal constantly, take chances, perfect crafts. Compose songs, plan for the future, and not let a single day go to waste.