There are many writers that I read who make use of writing prompts for their posts. For the most part they do this very well. The posts are thoughtful and heartfelt and always seem to match the theme perfectly. I am not one of those people. My few attempts to write according to a prompt have never felt natural, so they end up forever in the draft pile, wallowing in their contrivedness (yes I just made up a word).

This week, I was tagged by Nicki of The Perils of a Working Mom to come up with “7 SuperShots”, each of which had to match a category, I was intrigued. I post many pictures, and take many more, but I seldom take the time to talk about why a photo is meaningful to me. It’s something that I have been wanting to do more of, so this is a good place to start. My 7 SuperShots:

A photo that . . . takes my breath away.

I was fortunate enough to go to the Taj Mahal twice this past March. Once to experience it with Willy and the Lils, and once more to have the time to pay more attention and maybe take a few more photographs. This was taken just after sunrise on the second trip. I was the thir person to reach this spot, right after my friend Chris. We planned to be there at that magical moment when there was no one else there, and were lucky enough that the fellow that was there first let us get our shots too. It’s the entire experience of the Taj Mahal that takes my breath away. This photo is one key part of those experiences.

A photo that . . . makes me laugh or smile.

I have numerous photographs of the lils having fun, playing, growing and learning, but this is one that never fails to brighten my day. It was Goose’s first ever time on the merry-go-round, and there were only child sized seats on this ride. She was nervous, so Woo was quick to jump up with her and throw his arm around her shoulders. It was a gesture that said “I’ve got you, sis”. She was fine after this.

A photo that . . . makes me dream.

I remember when I was a child, and play was just play. We were fearless and focussed on having fun. All to often I see that is missing from the lives of young people. I want to make sure that my lils play for the sake of play, and and do silly things like wrapping themselves around a tree like a rope. This picture shows them doing that with some new friends. It makes me dream of my childhood, and for what they can make of theirs.

A photo that . . . makes me think.

One of the things that has troubled us all since arriving in India is the garbage that is everywhere. It’s on the street, in the parks, in the water. This is a little lake in one of out favourite gardens. It is actually one of few public spaces that we visit where rubbish bins are obvious and plentiful, but still we see this on the shores of the lake. I think about how this came to be such a colossal problem, how it can change, and what I can do to help change it, but mostly I think about how sad it is.

A photo that . . . makes my mouth water.

It’s fresh and plentiful, and the a good chunk of the basis for some of my favourite gravies here. I love going to the local markets in Bangalore. The sights, the smells, the sounds… They are packed and chaotic and full of great things, like these chilies, tomatoes and the garlic. And so much more.

A photo that . . . tells a story.

It tells the story to me. They are little, nervous, anxious and excited. It’s the first day that either of them has ever gone to school, and they are in it together. When every one of them isn’t sure, they grab each other’s hand and forge ahead together. I love that they support each other, and that they find comfort in one another.

A photo that . . . I am am most proud of (aka my National Geographic Worth Shot)

I don’t in any way feel that this is worthy of National Geographic, but I am really, really pleased with the shot. It was taken in the main city market, amid all the noise and frenzy. This woman was sitting on the ground stringing together one of the long garlands of flowers when a beam of sunlight fell upon her through one of the cracks in the roof. She just sat there, drinking it in, lost in the serenity of the moment, oblivious to everything. When it passed, she just resumed her work. I walked away, but I still think of her, and how peaceful she was.

I think that I am supposed to tag people now to carry this on. I’ll get on that ASAP.