sticks into the Gulf
of Maine. It's 1.5 miles from
our family's house and is a destination
when it's high tide and the beach is covered.
What's the point, you ask? Besides the wild flowers
blowing in the breeze, the waves crashing on
the rocks, and the knowledge that next
year it will still be here, the point
is that today I saw multiple
I stood and
watched them play - -
gliding in the wind and resting
on the bay laurel. They made me happy - -
their telltale orange and black contrasting with the
green shrubs and the blue water beyond.
And they made me sad. Will
they survive or not?
What's the point?
I closed my eyes and imagined
what it would be like to be surrounded
by thousands of these delicate creatures at their
final destination in the mountains of Mexico and understood
that all I needed was that association and idea to invite a momentary
massive flurry of wings which, when I opened my eyes,
were everywhere and no where. At this
point in time, I'm happy to stay
right here. No plane travel
needed. Just me and
What's the point? Our imaginations.
Wherever you are,
consider how far you can go
by going nowhere. Look at something in
your yard or in your home and imagine a place far
away. Feel the air, hear the wind and see the
wonder. Then open your eyes again and
be grateful for your imagination.
It's a gift we often overlook.
Lyn Swett Miller
reframing the narrative, one day, one image at a time
Let's ReFrame: By Degrees
A place where photographer Lyn Swett Miller considers wonder, joy and transformation in a complex world.