Ever wish you could make time stand still?

Me too.

As I pause to reflect on the day, I can't help but wonder when Saturdays became crazier and busier than week days. There was a time when rainy Saturdays meant sleeping in, maybe eventually changing out of pj's (but probably not), and watching college football all day. I'll spare you the long description of running from one activity to the other, as if my life were somehow busier than yours.

So as I was returning home from my third trip out for the day, I saw this. And for a moment, time did stand still.


Everything that was urgent on my task list for today was put on hold as I was faced with that which was most important. Perhaps because he's our last baby (until I convince the DH to let me foster babies), or perhaps because he's our only boy, my heart ached a little as it burst with joy over watching Carson play in the rain.

Sometimes I'll let moments like these go, and not feel the need to catch it on camera. I hate to admit it, but one of the first-world problems with being a professional photographer is that I sometimes take more pictures of other children than I do of my own. Worse yet, I sometimes don't want to break out my camera to take pictures of my kids when the lighting isn't good. I usually default to taking pictures with my phone. But it's so rare that a picture on my phone will make me pause and reflect.

So it's a good thing that time agreed to stand still for me at this particular moment. I had the time I needed to break out the camera, change the lens, find some SD cards and format them.

Even as my heart continued to beat, even as I continued to breathe in and out, even as I chased him around, time did stand still. It was a moment that I will eventually lose. I'll forget the cold, wet air. I'll forget his tiny voice. I'll lose the sent of him as I nuzzled his neck and lose the softness of his skin as I kissed his cheek. I'll give away the raincoat and the rain boots that were so big on him, when he grows out of them. He'll lose his sense of wonder about the rain and about puddles, and he'll simply pass them by as the annoyances that we feel as adults.

It was a rare and perfect intersection of circumstances that allowed this moment to happen. The rain. The timing of the DH and Carson walking Eva to a friend's house for a play date. My arrival back home. I knew this precious moment wouldn't last forever and it wouldn't be repeated again. I'm so grateful time stood still for me today. I'm so grateful for the power of still pictures to encapsulate this one single and unique moment in time.

Something tells me that I'll rely on these pictures to transport me back to this moment. And something tells me that when I do come back to these pictures, time will stand still again, if just for a moment, to let me relive this time. That's the power of still pictures. 

Zelda is a portrait and wedding photographer in the Atlanta area.