|Virgin River, Zion National Park, 1993|
c2018 John Prothero
Sometimes I come to this blog with an idea of what I want to write, and then get distracted. Or sometimes I want to write but have no clue what to write about.
But moments ago I experienced a moment of joy, and it was in that moment that I knew what I wanted to share.
For you see, I had decided that in 2018, I was going to focus on the things in life that give me joy. And they are simple things. Yet in that simplicity is great clarity and truth, and a sense of profoundness.
I find joy in the quiet mornings when the kids are still asleep and I have the house to myself, and the only sounds I hear are the birds singing and the waterfall splashing.
I find joy in the verdant green buds of the birch trees that are just beginning to show, or the deep crimson reds of the Japanese maple that are slowing coming out.
I find joy in a sleepy teenage daughter who spent the night at a church youth group lock-in, and will probably sleep most of the day.
I find joy in knowing that this year I will read more and find more time to watch classic movies, maybe even break into "The West Wing" on Netflix, as I've been promising myself for years.
I find joy in the thought of where I will go this fall for my photo trip, perhaps southern Utah, or a return to the San Juan mountains in southwest Colorado.
I find joy in the return to my photography, particularly finding the joy in the images that I took decades ago. It's like reuniting with a long lost and dear friend.
I find joy in making connections with other photographers who share this passion of capturing the natural world, and sharing it through various means of social media.
I find joy in making connections with other musicians, who, like me, share a love of choral music and singing, and the personal gift that it truly is.
Joy. A gift, not a reward.