"While there is perhaps a province in which the photograph can tell us nothing more than what we see with our own eyes, there is another in which it proves to us how little our eyes permit us to see."--Dorothea Lange (1895-1965), American photographerToday I have chosen to go beyond the borders of my home, Godot's Little Green Acre, in order to post this photo of Harpers Ferry. It is my unconventional photo-prayer being sent to a friend who was with me the day I took this photo in August 2008.
To those who have never visited the historic streets of Harpers Ferry, WV, I wish to say that it is a place where one can step back into time. For some reason, I am not even annoyed by the presence of commercialism there; I laugh, because it makes me think I am visiting a movie set. And I am accidentally part of it. But I know that when I close my eyes and open them again, I can see beyond the shops and the tourists. Beyond the words that make up civil history, my spirit is witness to the unnamed individual histories memorialized in those buildings. If only for a brief moment in time.
Melancholy is the word that immediately comes to mind whenever someone who has never seen Harpers Ferry asks me to describe it. Especially at dusk, when the tourists have vanished and the streets are deserted. Even moreso, when all the autumn leaves have fallen. Needless to say, melancholy alone does not do it justice. Surrounded by mountains, Harpers Ferry is hauntingly beautiful. Perhaps that is why I fell in love with this national park at first glance many years ago. For me, it never ceases to be a place of inspiration, reflection, and meditation.
No comments:
Post a Comment