The problem with taking pictures is that the pictures don’t convey the whole picture. As it were. This is where I miss writing.
Here is a picture of a bee. What you don’t see is the full circumstances surrounding me taking this shot.
You do not see me, muttering at the bees in the flowers, tossing an aside to my landlady that bees are not very smart. They fly erratically. This is about the 15th picture I took of bees yesterday.
You do not see my paint-covered landlady, weary of rolling paint on shingles for the house as she and I talk about life in Sointula 30 years ago.
You do not see the interruptions from the upstairs dogs, snarfing and grinning and snuffling as they patrol the perimeter of the backyard for stray worms or delicious places to eat dirt.
That’s the problem with photographs. You can use all kinds of editing tools on them, crop them or make them sepia-toned. You can do a lot to edit a photo.
You can’t edit to show everything. You can’t edit to show the happiness of just being you, at that time, in that place. You can’t always edit to show love.