
All of a sudden the Forsythia bloomed. Like overnight. It wasn't there and then it was. I see it everywhere now. The bright yellow blooms were a welcome sight on this cold gray day.
"All photographs are memento mori. To take a photograph is to participate in another person’s (or thing’s) mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time’s relentless melt."— Susan Sontag