she wore a dress
that reminded me
of the mountains
a type of mourning
but not of a loved one
that was laid to rest
but of the beauty
against which I could
see her dancing
moving body
that drifted as the wind blew
through her hair
An Ode to the Girl Who I Could Never Write
The girl once again woke up in my dreams, as I tried to run after her. I found her in a dress dancing in front of the mountains, with a bottle of champagne in her hands. She opened the bottle, and I watched as she poured herself a glass. She began to dance across the open field with a drunk stench in her mouth and a strange allure around her body.
The sun began setting as she danced more and more, and all that I could do was watch, watch as she danced with the champagne in her hand. I wrote the moment into a poem but all that remained was the memory. But the dream started to fade into the background, like mist that started to disappear in front of the sun.
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We stayed at the foot of the mountain for a much-needed break from our daily lives and we celebrated so many milestones that we both achieved. The girl danced in a field with the mountains as a backdrop and we enjoyed the moment in which we could really just breathe for a while.
It is funny how life sometimes throw things over your path that you have no control over, yet you need to swim. My father always told me that sometimes you are thrown into the deep end of the pool, and you just need to learn how to swim. Swim we did these last couple of weeks and months.
We stood at the foot of the mountain and as the sun fell toward the horizon, the lighting was perfect. She opened a bottle of champagne, one we really deserved in the end, and we celebrated that we are still breathing, that we are still able to do what we need to do. Our lives are in “interesting times” as no one really knows what they are doing. But we are trying at least to make things make sense. And in those rare moments where we do find some glimmer of hope, we dance, we celebrate, and we enjoy the moment in which we can breathe a bit.
The mountains were in the distance like gigantic monsters that lay there, waiting, breathing. The girl and the mountains were beautiful beyond words, and we could only breathe in the fresh air of beauty.
While we were shooting the photographs, the dogs that stayed on the property decided to "photo bomb" us, sitting right in front of the camera...
For now, happy dancing, and photographing.
All of the musings and writings are my own, albeit inspired by the girl who danced away. All of the photographs are my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and 50mm Nikkor lens.