The 4th Day of Christmas

Did I tell you how much I love this time of year?

Everything stands still in my life. I am not rushing. I am sleeping in after a wake up for night nurse Jenn (now don't be jealous: the boys always sleep in til they're rushed out of bed at 7am for school. None of this 6am nonsense in our house. That's not my family's gene).

For this very moment as I write now: I want this to last forever. I have tremendous, unfathomable challenges ahead of me in 2011, one day I will write again, but for now, all I can think of is now. It's an extraordinary feeling. It's Christmastime, 4th night and I'm dizzy with it. Life is feeling a little like champagne. It's scintillating, exciting, bubbly and fun. I know the bubbles will burst. But now is now.

Today, Jenn stayed later to play with the boys which was fun as Reuben showed her some of the new signs we'd learnt yesterday like ugly which he says with great passion and I described the word as being like the witch in the Wizard of Oz, and we exchanged our Christmas gifts, then out to our local Kenneth Hahn State Park, where Downtown has a striking backdrop of the mountains clad in snow. I once read that landscapes should not be photographed 30 mins after sunrise or more than 30 mins before dusk, and so whilst that thought languished in my brain and the camera in my car, I didn't bother.

It occurred to me today as I was looking through these images of the latter part of the day and the boys had played and climbed for a couple of hours and the bewitching hour of light had arrived, that I am so privileged to be able to spend my days doing this, just documenting my boys' lives, their highs and lows, "C'mon Reu Reus", or "naughty Callas", both participant and observer. 

At this age, portraits become journalistic in nature, and that is what I love. I cannot ask the boys to pose or even put them in a position for more than a few fleeting moments, yet I can do the best possible, capture them in all their bewilderment and excitement for life, the characters of the men they might one day be becoming so apparent.