madelynne · motherhood

The Art of Capturing the Moment…Without a Camera

We had a few moments yesterday sandwiched in between Vacation Bible School and meltdowns on the way to Chic-Fil-A and wrangling goats for a friend.

Just enough moments that I thought maybe everyday, every moment, every element of our busy well-worn life doesn’t have to be worth remembrance.

As long as there’s a moment or two I can hold onto in the chaos of raising four kids in this world where everything I do feels subject to scrutiny, that will be enough.

We emptied the pool yesterday. Plastic and slimy and simultaneously leaking air and holding water in its inflatable sides, that yellow concoction on my back deck is a lifesaver. I cleaned and they helped and then when it was full of six inches of hose water and old sand buckets, I stretched out in a lawn chair and they miraculously played together.

All four. In six inches of hose water.

Nothing that easy lasts very long.

But the camaraderie lasted just long enough for Madelynne to take the half a pirate ship that had been capsized by Hurricane Gus and toss water into the air.

Clear sheets of sparkling incandescence erupted out of that little ship, caught in the air for just a half-second and showered back down into the pool.

“Hey! Watch this! Look at the water!” She called out to her siblings and tossed another boatful.

Cast into the air, the water seemed almost solid, a shape that could be held and touched.

An art of childhood long forgotten by this wearied mama.

The image fell with a splash and then they were fighting over the boat and the bucket and I looked down at the now damp page of my paperback–

“No minute is quite like the one before it…Watch carefully, and keep watching…then you’ll be able to capture it.”**

Indeed.

**Quote taken from Moon Over Edisto by Beth Webb Hart. Read the whole story in a day and a half while Gus poured that hose water all over my feet and legs. Read voraciously partly because my soul starves for good stories, partly because I’m reading lots of ‘comparative works’ for my own novel as I write a book proposal, partly because if you’ve ever spent a summer on Edisto Island, you know sometimes, you just want to come home to the low country.

Photo of my beautiful growing-up girl by my friend Sarabeth. Who owns the aforementioned goats we spend our evenings with right now.

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