The Photograph that Was Not Taken


A few days ago, I was appropriately reading “The Sixth Extinction” right next to a forest. The book itself is amazing, and I read almost half of it in that one sitting. However, I’ll leave its description for another time.

What I wanted to talk about was just how how beautiful the experience was. Sitting there, in the midst of nature, there was nothing else to fill my ears but the various sounds it makes. There were birds singing, insects buzzing, and leaves creating their own music as the wind played with them. I don’t think I’ve experienced anything more relaxing or more beautiful than that very moment.

I was surrounded by that beauty a few hours. At some point, I got my head out of the book, and the most beautiful sunset was before me. I admired it, and I couldn’t help but feel amazed at just how amazing it looked. There was a white cloud, on which the sunset had painted its colors with such majesty that I think it safe to say nothing else could have attained those perfect combinations of colors. The could began, pure and white, and somewhere down its center, it turned a dark blue. Finally, as the last part of it was getting lost in the horizon, its color turned pink.

I admired the sight, and at some point I remembered that I didn’t have my camera with me. I felt bitterly sorry about that, because this was the kind of thing I wished to be able to see again, and again, and again. Then I realized something: pictures never seem to capture anything as it is in real life. It’s as if the scenery has a sort of soul that makes it amazing, and that very soul is escapes from the photograph.

So, I decided to sit back and take in the view. It was just me and it until the darkness of the night began to creep in, and to make the colors fade one by one. However, that beautiful scenery will remain imprinted in my mind. Not as a photograph, but as a memory, which will do it justice until the day it will be replaced by other memories.



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