The picture doesn’t show the shrieks of wonderful teen laughter. Nor does it make my garden look cared for, although I tend it every day. In the background are the chairs still piled on the burn pit from my quick afternoon mowing project. And next to the burn pit is the now washed clear, painted sign congratulating my kids on finishing the school year. The whole shot is a bit fuzzy, as I took it from inside and the windows need washing. And I accidentally got a bit of a houseplant leaf on the left side of the frame.
In the first shot, my daughter looks odd, as she suddenly bent down to pick up a corn hole bag. And in the second, her friend was throwing the corn hole bag, and therefore is a blur of motion. Neither one would ever approve the posting of said photo on any media. And due to the background scene, I don’t want it shared either.
But it is real. It is life and life isn’t picture perfect. We all know how to add filters or focus in on the detail to avoid the background, or blur the foreground to see the amazing view. And really, we do it everyday in real life too. Sometimes we just forget how much we do it and suddenly get overwhelmed with the big picture.
We are only four weeks into this summer, with maybe seven weeks left, (but really we are 18 weeks home, with unknown left). Each of my kids are struggling with the distancing, and different summer, than usual. And I ride the roller coaster of changes and upheavals daily. But as I sit here thumbing through yesterday’s snap shots, I see a different picture.
They had fun. They laughed and climbed trees. One climbed a mountain, literally. And we went out for spur of the moment late night ice cream. There was a little bonfire and s’mores. There were also hurt feelings and changed plans. Raised voices and sullen responses. But really, this snap shot will be the memory I carry forth today of a random Thursday in July of 2020. This is life, real life. Which can be messy and overgrown and fuzzy and blurry with movement, but also abuzz with love, laughter, friendship, beauty, and contentment. 
Finding MY Bees Knees 