The blurriness reveals nothing to me. Standing in the middle of the field of flowers, taking photographs with a broken camera, my life was meaningful in ways I can’t understand anymore. But I know I was free. I was alone. I was with a full heart of optimism and hope. And I was loved. That was what I cherished the most. The energy from one to the other to another. The ways we can capture ourselves through others. These flowers look so young and forever in place. Why does nostalgia have to be kind of bittersweet? Luckily, a little more sweet than bitter, in this case.