Our family stopped to see the world's largest cross (198 feet!) outside of Effingham, IL, during our travels this past summer. I'll show you some other photos of it in the next post to give you a better sense of its scale. While there I spotted a little grasshopper on the cross, and as the sun was setting this little creature cast an enormous shadow on the white metal surface--a shadow which, unforuntately, my camera did not always capture. Naturally I couldn't stop taking photos, and I now have nearly twenty photos of the little guy. While taking them I sensed that I was doing something special. I knew that, yes, somehow these would be among the best photos I've taken. (With the results in front of me, I'm not so sure, but I'm merely conveying the feeling I experienced at the time.) There was something lovely and puzzling about the shot--the enormity of the cross was bafflingly a fitting setting for this tiny little creature. My mind went wild with gratitude about the good fortune of finding Jiminy, and it sparked a train of thought that would take too much effort now to capture. But somehow all things in the universe, high and low, meek and mighty, felt to me as though they belonged to one another in a crazy and even incongruent but ultimately fantabulous unity.
Posts
.jpg)
4 comments:
I have equally profound musings from our visit to this magestic cross. Most of them being "When is my husband going to stop taking pictures of that cricket?"
But aren't you glad I didn't stop for a while? Because don't these photos make up for all the social embarrassment?
I love it. Truly profound. The intermingling of the great and the small. It's a beautiful, necessary intermingling.
Timekeeper- I also love the name.
Squish-y: thanks, yo.
Timekeeper chose her name because of her great talent of (a) being absolutely punctual (and ahead of time) on absolutely everything, and (b) stressing out when the loved ones in her life threaten to undo (a), which we do all the time.
Post a Comment