Tiny Dancer

How is it possible to describe the perfect summer's day? Without words. Without smells...or tastes...or sounds. With only pictures?

How is it possible to describe the warm sun...the cool grass...the bright light? The soft gentleness of a summer breeze? The heat radiating? The quiet that comes with the world being asleep or away?

Somehow - she caught my eye. Like a ballerina. Flitting and floating..flying between the blades of sweet smelling green grass. With such determination and ease. Soft and strong. Spirited and playful. Joyous.

I allowed the warmth of the soft earth to hold me...the softness of the grass to soothe me. I got quiet. I got still. I thought to myself that if this isn't the quintessential depiction of simply summer - what is?

And - I smiled. And - I watched. And - as if on perfect cue - she danced and danced and danced. As if no one was looking.

But - I was.

Click

For a moment - everything stops. Time stands still.

I feel nothing but the beating of my heart. I hear nothing but the sound of my breath. Feet are rooted. Eyes are focused - seeing all....and seeing only this.

A blurr of hazey heat. Ominous dark clouds gathering. A distant rumble of thunder. I know - my time is short here. Either I'm going to capture this image..or - I'm not.

I follow closely...carefully with my camera's lens. I dare not look away. I might miss it.

Click. The sound of my shutter.

And - this is the moment that I caught.