THE BALANCE

He never really understood why it made him feel this way. He always felt that if he tried to analyze his feelings it probably wouldn't occur. He just allowed it to happen whenever the time was right. He lifted his camera to his eye and examined the image that nature had created. It was perfect. The image he perceived through the lens was as if he was looking at his own life at that moment. The dilapidated fence began its descent at the left side of the framed image. As the sun streamed through the early morning fog from the east the shafts of light broke through the openings in the fence and splayed onto the furrowed path to the right of the fence. The tall green grass and yellow dandelions covered the narrow strip in the center dividing the two ruts where the wheels of old wagons had packed the surface so tightly that nothing would grow for decades to come. It was a perfectly balanced picture and it reminded him of his own being at that moment in time. He felt a balance that some only feel once in a lifetime. The image before him remained. He began to feel light and airy. In that instant of time his mind reflected on all things. Memories of his world and of worlds he did not know filled his mind. He saw pictures of daughters lost to mothers. He saw clothing worn at joyous weddings. He witnessed the images of loved ones leaving. He saw a birth and closed his eyes when he saw a death. He felt compassion, knew hurt, longed for others dear to him and he began to cry. No more than a minute had passed and yet he had learned more about life in that moment than he had in all his years to that point. He slid his finger to the release and squeezed the shutter. He raised himself from his kneeling position and slid the lens cap over his lens. He wondered if he would ever slip into this space again, the perfect balance. He placed the camera strap over his shoulder, took a deep breath and wondered.