Memory

Without any great sense of purpose or schedule, I've been slowly, erratically working my way through the few boxes of my mother's things that have landed here with me.

Just now, I came across this photograph -- me, at about age 8 or so? -- taken at the beach that was in walking distance from our house. We spent too many summer days there to count, cooling off and rinsing off sand on the way home by walking through the sprinklers set up to give little city patches of grass some relief from the summer sun.

I don't remember ever seeing this photo before. My parents, both photographers, were very casual with drawers full of photos primarily taken by my mom with the film developed and the photos printed by my dad. This one is, so typically, just a contact proof, printed by laying the negative right on top of the photo paper. Not chosen to be printed individually, not balanced for exposure, not even with all the dust blown off (I've cleaned it up in PS just a little).

It makes me smile to think that spring is coming, and after that, summer. Maybe we'll get to the beach this year.