Lavender skies and blue fingernails

The day my mood reflected nakedly in my photographs and I revealed more than I expected.

Before Christmas, I captured some haunting photos returning from my mother's place. The thick and disorienting mist enshrouded everything, and the sky seemed to transition from smoky grey to varying shades of purple. I could hear the faint sighing of a train in the distance, which added to the eerie atmosphere.

While some of my friends found the photos beautiful, one sensed something amiss and asked if I was okay. Her intuition was spot on, as I, too, felt a sense of sadness and unease. It was surprising that this feeling had translated into my photography.

It made me reflect on how some people can pick up on our emotional shifts. They are the ones we should cherish and keep close to us.

Standing behind the lens, I pulled over my car to take in the mesmerizing scenery. The thick mist created a sense of distance and chaos, and the twinkling ice behind me shimmered as my hazard lights illuminated the surroundings with a warm amber glow. It was a beautiful yet unsettling moment that I would never forget.

Distant and chaotic clatter

Behind the lens, I’d stopped the car in the fog, the most beautiful scene unfolding. My hazard lights bloomed and contracted amber hues across the glimmering ice behind and beyond—a horizon of thick low mist blanketed the fields.

The sunset was a kaleidoscope of colours, from the sublime and vivid to limp and lacklustre. I stayed by the fence for a while, watching the dregs of the evening sun dip down over the town, blue fingernails curled over the splintered wood of the fence.

An eerie sadness, a long deep sigh, the distant chaotic train clatter.

A battle that can never be won.

Grieving for the living is a problematic concept made worse when there’s no wrapping up loose ends – just the ache.