About four years ago as CeCe and I walked around our lavender field, I inadvertently took this photo of our shadows. I recently came across it, and the overall composition resonated with me in ways it hadn’t before. Prior to CeCe’s passing, this photo was nothing more than a humorous happenstance; a mistake that led to jokes about it being a shot of our inseparable shadowy companions along the vein of Grant Wood’s American Gothic. The impressions of the moment eventually wore off, and the photo was left to reside amongst the thousands of pictures taken over the years that have chronicled our lives. But now, it has a meaning altogether different. It’s symbolic; it’s representative of those nuggets of time that once seemed inconsequential yet now are so much more.
Shadows by their very nature simply cast a visual cue, yet they also bring about a degree of comfort. They envelop that which we share together. They’re always by our side providing a sense of companionship, mingling without hesitation to create a new shape; a silhouette representing the union of two people as one.
Shadows follow us; they cover ground and cool the earth. They stretch before or behind us, showing us either the way forward or the path from which we came. They’re only as good as the light that surrounds us. And although they may appear to leave our side, like true love, they never will.
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