The forest's full of hairpin turns, part II

"Look through my eyes", says the photographer to himself, "let me embrace it all at once. Heaven and earth, the forest behind and the house mark of all things." 

He has pulled far back, as to catch all in one frame. Nothing blurred and gray in that moment; only the pale blue sky, real soil. Dirt under the nails and a mosquito sting, itching on the hand, the taste of coffee in his mouth. Uncertain glances from a much smaller view, "if it is me you want to capture, I'm standing here." Soft palms surrounds restless children, the heat from the timber, the wind that whirls around the corner of the house. The old caught in a moment of inertia, small toes curl up in rigid leather. Faster, faster, we want to continue this, our only day.

Suddenly, in an unguarded moment, still with the forest as a backdrop; raised arms and averted faces defy the photographer's admonition. 

"I have been given all power", the photographer thinks. 

"You decide nothing," whispers life and push forward a little creature on short legs, arms firmly enclosing a dark shadow.

The photograph groping for his story, a story about uncertain and fragile human life - about life, more than oblivion. The people are highly present, visible as themselves, and not as subjects to the photography requirements. They are like us. They are us. Within the framework of 10 x 8 inches, a story emerges from the shadows. A beautiful tale of joy, kindness, love and belonging.

Although this little photograph is in poor condition, I look at it almoust every day. Someone has written 'Have to look at Spellopp' at the bottom. I still wonder who Spellopp was, and the little girl holding him.