When I think about it

Remember those sepia-toned photographs from the past in which relatives you will never meet stare steadfastly at the camera, with just a speck of a smile on their faces? Sometimes, I am one of them - balanced on the fringes of such photographs - whom you dont notice for years.

Sometimes there is so much silence that the depth of this silence takes on a new meaning. Silence that cannot be broken.

I vividly remember your photograph of the bird in flight, its white wings backlit by the sun. Glorious.