There was a family and once they were here. Present. Full of possibilities. Serious young men echoing each other in pose. Attuned to the remarkable ability of the camera to capture soul–sort of. It captures a static moment when boys just before manhood take themselves and the world seriously. One boy dapper and the other more rugged but each self-assured.
The girl, still in little girl clothes, wavers, just a little blurry about her place in this family and the universe. And there are others who flit about like fairies. Their ancient souls refusing to be captured and put on glass for some future beings who wouldn’t understand them no matter how they tried.
Boys stand heroes for the ages. Girls say life is but an instant, catch me if you can.
Strange little marks like worms in graves. And then there were six, and five, and four and finally one just barely remembering the smiling time on the porch in the summer. Yes, we smiled back then and moved too much, so full of the blood of life pulsing our veins, pushing us forward and eventually away from the womb-like porch and our mother–looking so heart-achingly young in this photo.
Photography and its deep silences, the things it doesn’t explain or show! Soul shows itself and hides at the same time. Who were they? What were they like? Did their laughter last long?
The only answer: Once they were there.