The Crossing

From the AY Jackson Lookout many people have viewed this very bridge, many more have crossed this same bridge.  I am one of them that has made the journey several times to the other side and of course, back.  This one particular afternoon however a different kind of crossing happened for me.

The afternoon started out with my daughter and I walking the trail from the parking lot over to the bridge.  Along the way, I was using the first camera that I had bought that had more than just point and shoot capabilities.  They call it a bridge camera where you can learn to take control of the settings.  My daughter had offered to be my subject against the beauty of High Falls.  I was in my element.  Camera in hand, quality time with my daughter and we were out in nature.  Perfect.

My journey with the camera was at beginner stages.  I had recently separated and found being out in nature, snapping pictures of things that caught my attention, was helping me to find some peace in my shattered life.  Learning to budget, raise two teenagers on my own and unsure of where things were going, this escape and renewal were just what the doctor ordered.

We were nearing the end of our walk when I thought, hey, let’s try using the timer and getting a picture of the two of us.   With no tripod, I set the camera on the ledge of the railing that was beside a rock cut leading right into moving water.  What could go wrong, right?  As I stepped away from the camera to get closer to my daughter, she thought, I am going to sit up on the ledge of the railing.  My reaction was too slow.  The camera dropped hard.  Stopped.  Then almost as if it stopped just to wave “bye bye” it slid down into the rushing water.

To say I was devastated would be an understatement.  Yes, I lost the camera and that is replaceable.  The memories we had just captured though were gone forever.  But this memory of what my daughter said next has never left me.

You see, she was seeing the joy photography was bringing me and dare I say, was seeing how I had a natural way of seeing things.  Without hesitating she turned to me and said,  "Mom, I know and understand how much photography has come to mean to you and I would not be upset if you spent money on a new camera even though you tell us right now we have to be wise with our decisions. You need this for yourself."

That moment still lives with me all these years later.  Within a week I had bought my first DSLR camera with a wide walk around lens and a zoom lens for wildlife.  It was then I also realized that this was turning into more than just a hobby but something that mattered to me more than I had realized.  I guess you could say, this was me walking over the bridge to a new journey, a new destiny.  Single mom, two teenagers and a camera at hand.  Although I do not have any photo memories from that day, with the waterfalls having swept them down the river, it did not take my new found love for photography from me.  Instead it strengthened the reality that it was something I did not want to let go of.

Join me as I take you over this bridge and journey with me through some trying times, learning times, funny moments and everything in between

From the A.Y. Jackson Lookout, many have viewed this bridge. Many more have crossed it. I have made that walk several times myself, over to some trails and back again.

But one particular afternoon, a different kind of crossing took place for me.

My daughter and I had started from the parking lot, making our way along the trail toward High Falls. I had my first “real” camera in hand.  Not just a simple point-and-shoot  but what they call a bridge camera, where you begin learning to take control of the settings. She offered to be my subject against the beauty of the falls.

I was in my element. Camera in hand. Time with my daughter. Nature surrounding us. Perfect.

At the time, I was in the early stages of learning; not just photography, but my new life. I had recently separated and was figuring out how to raise two teenagers on my own while making every dollar count. Being out in nature, capturing what caught my eye, was bringing me a kind of peace I hadn’t realized I needed.

Near the end of our walk, I had an idea. Let’s set the timer and get a photo of the two of us.

With no tripod, I placed the camera on the railing beside a rock cut that led straight down into the moving water. What could possibly go wrong?

As I stepped toward my daughter, she hopped up onto the railing, thinking it would be a nice place to sit.

My reaction was too slow.

The camera tipped.
Hit hard.
Paused... almost as if to wave goodbye then slid down into the rushing falls.

We just stood there in silence.

The camera could be replaced. The memories would stay but the photos were now gone forever.

Then she said something I have never forgotten.

“Mom, I know and understand how much photography has come to mean to you. I wouldn’t be upset if you spent money on a new camera. You need this for yourself.”

At that moment, I realized this was becoming more than a hobby.

Within a week, I had purchased my first DSLR with a walk-around lens and a zoom for wildlife. I didn’t know exactly where it would lead, only that I wasn’t ready to let it go.

I may not have any images from that day. The waterfalls carried them downstream. But they didn’t carry away what photography had awakened in me. I didn’t know it then, but that afternoon was part of something far bigger than me.  If anything, that afternoon strengthened it. .  From uncertainty to intention. From surviving to choosing something for myself.

Single mom. Two teenagers. And a camera in hand.

That afternoon was the bridge I crossed.  I have not looked back since.

I invite you to walk it with me. Through the growth, the mistakes, the laughter, the lessons, and the beauty found along the way.