There is a kind of summer that lives somewhere between a disposable camera and a 35mm half used roll of film. It feels slower. Not because time actual slows down, but because no one is rushing to keep up with it. Bare feet on hot pavement as you make a run for the littlest piece of sandy beach access shade. Sprinklers running to long in the backyard, your feet wearing blades of trampled grass as shoes. Bathing suits that never fully dry.
No pressure to make it aesthetic. Yet somehow, always is.
Photos came back a little grainy. A little overexposed. The blur of someone moving to fast out of laugher. You wore your sunburned cheeks as a natural blush. The babies have sandy little feet and sandy little fingers. Because you let them run a little longer, a little wilder as you watched. Unpolished and just letting the memory be. Those pictures weren't about getting everything right. But more about letting it unfold. The quiet proof that you were there, fully in it. These are the photos you will reach for. That is the feeling I am always chasing behind the camera.
