A Different Turn
A Slow Sunday on small adventures, presence, and letting the moment lead
Meet Me
Meet me at the close of a day that took me by surprise. I did sit here and begin to write, taking in the morning just as the sun began to peek through the fog. In that quiet, I made a different decision.
The walk to the ferry felt serene, the way a sneaky spring day in the middle of winter often does. A hint of new beginnings. Emerging energy. The faint sense of we made it through the cold. It isn’t true yet, but the moment carried that promise, and it felt good to be inside it.
It’s been a year since I pulled the trigger on buying a camera. While I’ve used it in a few meaningful places, I’m still getting to know it. Learning how each setting holds light. How it captures a moment. How it sometimes does the exact opposite of what I want. I’ve been meaning to practice more. To see everywhere the way I see places I already consider amazing.
Isn’t it interesting how easily we feel called to faraway places while taking our own surroundings for granted? We dismiss what’s familiar in favor of cobblestone streets, white beaches, and epic scenery, forgetting that right outside our door is a place others travel to when they seek adventure.
When I visit Seattle, I notice the dirt, the grime, the fast pace that rattles my nervous system. The gray skies. The misty air. The expectation to get wet instead of opening an umbrella. And still, I’m deeply aware of the lush green landscape, the smell of the waterways, and the quiet luck of living where the water soothes and the trees breathe.
After last week’s reflection on having fun, on remembering that I can shift from working an experience to simply enjoying it, I closed my computer. I took the day across the water with my camera and wandered the riverfront and the market as though I’d flown ten hours to get there. Slowly. Attentively. Letting the place meet me back. Playing with photographs I know I can take again anytime. Just to learn. To see what happens. To notice how they turn out.
Honestly, I can say, I had fun.
I ended my visit with a bonus dinner with my daughter, one that softened the last five years of internal questions and projections. Today was a good Slow Sunday.
Enjoy this photo as I say goodnight and remind us both that each moment, each choice, is not repeatable. Sometimes taking a different turn is enough to enliven the spirit.
Kissed by the right turn,
Michelle
