We were out doing what I call “speed shooting”. We had plans that morning that fell through and by the afternoon I was antsy. I wanted to go shoot so bad. Our camera was still pretty new and was just sitting there in the closet! My husband said grab the camera, let’s go. He is from the area so he knows many of the back roads. I had no idea where we were going, but evidently, he did. Next thing I knew we were by the river following a winding road. It’s populated, but not too busy on a Saturday afternoon.
There was no destination in mind, he drove, I spotted. If there was something that caught my eye, he would pull over and I would jump out and get my shot. It was exhilarating. With the curves and traffic, at times it even felt a bit dangerous. It’s often the best way to shoot. It’s all on instinct and you are moving quickly, not lingering too long. I would hear a car engine and know it was time to move on.
As we drove something red caught my eye. I asked my husband, “did you see that?” He’s like, “what?” “It was red”, I said. That’s all I could see. What in the world would be red out here? The water was a very typical murky Louisiana river brown. We were entering summer followed by a winter that included a historic snow, so much of the foliage and brush was brown and dead with sparce spots of green scattered around.
We finally figured out it was a bridge from this side of the river to a home on the other side. We drove back and forth down the road looking for a place to stop to get the picture. I was fixated now. I didn’t want to leave without it. It took us 5 passes to finally find a spot that was safe to pull over where I could see the bridge at a good angle and where I didn’t have to go swimming to get my shot!
It became my favorite picture of the day. I found myself asking why? What was the purpose of the bridge? Why was it red? There were no other bridges that we saw. So here it was this lone bridge. I also found myself staring at the image, lost in the colors.
Imagine for a moment, being lost in a sea of brown… the foliage around you either dead or dying. The green spots that are visible being mere glimpses of life and in the middle of it all, this beacon suddenly calls. Just like driving down the road, we would see the red then it would disappear as we went around a new bend. Losing sight of it for a moment. Sometimes being able to see the whole thing, sometimes just a piece.
How often does life feel that way? Lost. Stuck in the mire, the mud. The images of hope and life sparce. Unsure if they are new life springing forth or merely pieces that haven’t yet succumbed. But then a beacon of hope of appears as if it’s guiding you home. Guiding you to hope. Sometimes you may lose sight of it. Sometimes, you only have a piece of it to hold onto, but then you go around one more bend and there it is in all its glory, just waiting for you to walk across….
Hope isn’t the promise that everything will work out. It’s the willingness to keep walking when the map goes quiet. And sometimes, that willingness is all the direction you need.
Journal Prompts / Reflections
1. Orientation
What feels like “north” in my life right now — even if it doesn’t make logical sense yet?
2. Unlearning Maps
Where am I still following a map that was handed to me rather than chosen by me?
3. Body Wisdom
When I imagine moving forward, what feels steady in my body? What feels forced?
4. Trust
What would trusting myself look like in this season — not perfectly, just honestly?
5. Belonging
Who or what feels aligned with the direction I’m walking, rather than pulling me off course?
6. Integration
If I believed I wasn’t lost, what choice would I make next?
