...I gotta wear shades
London, ON, November 2009
The scene: We're driving the kids home from school. My wife's at the wheel and I'm beside her. I'm fiddling with my camera because I'm in a bit of a funk and I need to occupy my mind and my hands. As we turn the corner and head west, the late afternoon winter sun almost blinds us all.
We're Canadian, so we should be used to this kind of thing by now. And to a large extent we are. But we've all got either green or blue eyes, and given our inherent sensitivity to light, we don't particularly appreciate the optical equivalent of a blowtorch.
I raise the camera and try to capture the moment as best I can (manual, as massively underexposed as the camera will allow.) I'm sharing the result not because it's a particularly great picture - it isn't - but because I don't want to forget what it's like to experience the day-to-day with my family. On this day, we were still in the shellshocked phase of early grief, and we grabbed at any snippet of normalcy. Sometimes, it comes in forms we can't anticipate.
Your turn: How does bright light make you feel? Why?
