I've realized that no matter how good technology is now, and no matter how amazing cameras are, they can't really ever fully capture a moment. They can capture the semblance of one- one that doesn't quite allow you to feel the breeze playing through the your hair or the heat of the sunlight on your face.
I'll try to use words to do what a camera can't.
My favourite time of day is dusk. Not because of the blaze of red that burns across the fading blue sky, but because of the feeling it gives me.
My mum doesn't like dusk. She says it feels as if the world is coming to an end. I (surprise, surprise) beg to differ.
It feels to me as though Earth is preparing to go to bed, the worries and tiredness of the day finally trailing behind us, relinquishing its grip. The sight of people of all walks of life strolling home and the shade of blue the sky turns when the sun sets makes me feel somehow nostalgic, yet altogether calmed.
Today the wind rustles my curtains as it does the trees outside my window. Rays of sunlight dance on the leaves, leaving them an ocean of bright greens and deep emeralds; a calming symphony of fluttering, luminescent silk. The sky dims as the sun gradually sets- but even in its setting, the sun's radiance makes it painful to behold.
When I close my eyes, I can clearly feel the heat of their rays etched red against the back of my eyelids.
As a bird or two chirp outside my window, I let myself indulge in the feeling of serenity and content that washes over me. I remind myself that it is things like this that I live for- and moments like these cameras could never hope to capture.
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