I made this image nine years ago, July 1. As seasons of my life stack one on top the other, I can hardly see the bottom standing on the top, or the top standing at the bottom. I sure can't see how many or how few there are yet to come. And the images I've made throughout are like old friends–we relive memories and review old markers made and passed along the way. Sometimes they come and go, sometimes they linger, and sometimes they stay a while.
"Precious memories, how they linger,
How they ever flood my soul;
In the stillness of the midnight, precious, sacred scenes unfold."