On so many levels

Sometimes, I simply cannot explain why something speaks to me on levels like nothing else can.

This picture is one of those things.

It’s the way the air smelled when I took it – fresh and fall like in late November. It’s the color of his golden hair in the autumn light – like the rose gold ring my Dad pained over choosing for my mother shortly before her passing. It’s the fact that he hollered “wooooo hoooooo” from the front seat of the car as we drove over that majestic Cooper River bridge with the wind gently tousling his hair. It’s the fact that he can change my mood in an instant without even knowing how or why – but rather, just by being his happy, little self. It’s the way his hair will forever remind me of my father’s – always messy, full and light. Always there. Always my comfort. Always my strength.

This is one of those images I want you to feel through my heart. But from the depths of my soul, I cannot express my love for this moment or this photograph in my life. On any level.

So today is a lesson. Today is one of the days I have realized most how significantly personal a single photograph can be. Because I am sure all you can see in this little internet post is some wind-blown hair.

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