Resolution

Today I've made a resolution. When I see something very pretty/I like, I shall stop and take a picture if possible. I'd love to browse all those pretty sights again.

I sometimes wonder if taking a picture would make the memory weaker? The pictures is my mind are so fresh, I can recall them at a moments notice. No matter how long ago it is from. But then I'm sure I'm losing on the details. But are details necessary? Not really. Or so I think. But it would still be good to have a picture to share the memory with others.

There are three pictures that I particularly cherish. I shall try to describe them here in words - and in the process I will probably make it obvious why the picture is needed :)

One is from my college days. It was night time and we were at the back of this really dilapidated and probably very unsafe block of apartments. This was next to the Raritan River (I went to school at Rutgers). There is an old bridge over the river about 15 blocks away; a bridge with street lights all along it. The river was flowing calmly that night and there were no ripples to disturb the water. No moon to speak of brightening the skies. Or maybe I never noticed it after looking at what was right in front of my eyes. The bridge and its reflection in the water formed these perfect O's. It felt as if it was the gateway to a different world beyond. It was magical.

The second is from a night of camping. We'd all had our share of food and drink and were in a happy place already. And then a few of us decided to take a walk on the beach. The moon was bright and glowing that night and the waves effervescent. The sand were bare with none other than us present. At the back of us were these tall woods and small cliff almost blocking us from the world beyond with the sea water spreading till the horizon in front of us. The sands were white and the reflection of the moon on the sea water painted a divine landscape; one I'll probably never forget my whole life. The waters splashing against the shore the only sound surrounding us. Beautiful. I want to write so much more to make you understand how pretty it was there; but I'm sure I can never match the sight and sound of that night in words.

The third is from a very recent memory. I was backing out of my garage and in the distance could hear the sound of the complex gardener sweeping the leaves away with his air blower. As I was backing out, I caught a glimpse of the sunlight filtering to ground through the tall trees next to the footpath. There was a haze of particles floating around in the light - probably leaf shreds ruffled up by the gardener or pollen parachuting lazily. It was ethereal. The perfect green leaves of the trees as from fresh rains; the air heavy with dew and the soft golden light of the early morning; the floating bits and leaves disrupted the sheet of sunlight forming rays.