Photograph

Essay Writing
Journal 5

My all-time favorite picture is of five-year-old girl named Brooke. It was taken on her birthday. The day was winding down after we had taken her to a pumpkin patch for a birthday party, where several activities had been included. She had been on a hayride, picked out a pumpkin, played games, giggled, fought with a friend, played with the other friends, ran, had jumped, had fussed with her mom, made up with her mom in time for presents, and had smeared cake all over her face. This picture was taken on the ride home, when she had passed out in her car seat. Her head is lagging to the side in a very uncomfortable position, but she didn’t move for ages after exerting so much energy.

It’s a black-and-white photo with a timeless feel. It reminisces of many other pictures of children after a long birthday party, whether modern (which could mean they’ve fallen into a sugar coma) or ancient, which could mean they spent the whole afternoon running alongside a kite with friends and playing jacks or kickball. It’s a barrage of imagery. As I look at Brooke in the photo, I see the other children. I see the other activities. It might seem common to you when it is viewed this way, but that is far from the truth. The originality of the photo is just that. It is not original since most families have photos like this one, but when you are looking at this particular sweet little girl, so full of life, passed out on a car seat, you have the sense that no one has loved a little girl so much; that this little girl is more energetic and more loving than those children in the other pictures.

The delicate features of the picture are minute details. Her tiny ear pokes out from beneath her messy hair, just visible since she has her head cocked to the side. Brooke’s small hand is slack; her arm perched on the car seat in a way that makes the hand look graceful and relaxed, even though earlier in the day it was bunched in a petite fist when her cousins were being pushy. The sunlight through the car window lands on her shirt-the one with a black cat on it-and still it creates a glow on her skin, which calls more attention than her cutesy outfit. Looking past Brooke’s peaceful face, there is a country scene. In the field is a line of old trees, setting the boundaries for the big open space used for ranch and farming. The trees in the distant seem to be relatively in focus, while the tall grass is a blur.

If you listen to the song “God Only Knows” and you think about those crisp autumn days when you pulled that sweater out of your closet for the first time of the season and you think about the prettiest voice you’ve heard, and you cry and the little girl keeps on growing anyway, then I think you will see the photograph.