This is a failed photograph, one that in no way captures what it looked like or gives any impression of how I felt. The moon itself is too small, too bright, and the context is too mundane and drab. But I take the camera out of my bag anyway, knowing this will be the result. Why? It is an act of worship; a moment of stopping every other activity, gazing up at that moon and being aware of nothing else. That presence is a celebration; a moment of perfect gratitude.
i guess no picture can perfectly capture the moment, but the picture may can capture the memory.
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