
The Only Photo I took that Day
One afternoon in October 2020 I drove to Fort Boise Riverside near Parma and stared out at the river. It was full. Wind from the north gave it texture.
This is the only photo I took that day.
For a year after my mother died the previous September, my photography turned from hopeful to introspective. I played one song on repeat, Angels Above Us by Stick Figure, more than I’ve played anything before or since.
I wasn’t the only one who had been there. A water bottle leans against a log in the bottom left corner of the frame, next to a fence post. Someone else had come here looking for something.
I know because I was too.
