Walking through Cannon Beach, Oregon, this past week, I saw this:
It made me stop, smile, shoot a few photos.
While shooting, I noticed this:
Matching pink flip flops.
Gosh. How sweet is that?
I turned to my friend and told her about this house, and how last time I passed by I remember shooting into the yard and seeing two little girls quietly playing. One was seated at the picnic table, doing what I would guess was some sort of art project, probably watercolors. The other sat on one of the lawn chairs.
I came home, edited the photos and remembered to go back and look at the little girls from when I shot them in 2007.
Here’s how they looked then:
I wonder if they’re twins.
And I wonder what they look like now. How they’ve changed.
Of course I don’t know them. And I’m not a weirdo who loves looking into people’s yards. So you know, this yard is viewed just like this from the sidewalk. I didn’t snoop or climb a fence to shoot these photos.
But it also makes me think of how much MY life has changed since I took the first photo back in 2007.
Oregon looks and feels much like I remember it from several years ago. It’s still stunningly beautiful. The wind is still surprisingly bitter cold. The hydrangeas are still larger and more brilliant than any I’ve seen. Every other person on the street still has a dog at their side and a smile on their face.
It’s unchanged, yet always changing. The sky goes from gray to blue within minutes. Gray and cold to blue and warm. Same as I remember. Same and different, all at once.
I guess that’s how I feel about my life right now.
Same. But different.
And it makes me smile. Makes me realize something about me, about life.
If you just stick around long enough, you’ll see the sun.