I was collecting seeds from my zinnias this week, cutting spent heads, tossing them into a paper bag to dry. Slowly processing the loss of summer. Preparing for our long winter.

And then a bit of light, there at my feet, caught my eye.

The nasturium leaves, round and beautiful on their own even before the orange and yellow blossoms peek out, were glowing in the last of the day’s sun.

I stood still and thought how much I wanted to hold onto this moment, this bit of sunlight, these bright colors. How I wanted time to slow down even as, for me, it’s moving faster and faster.

I stood there watching the light on the leaves and blossoms for a few moments and then I did what every photographer does. I ran to the house for a camera.

And that’s why I take so many photographs. It’s to slow time, to help remember the thoughts and feelings of a specific moment. So that later on, when winter is getting old and we haven’t seen the sun in days, I can look at this image and remember the heat on my shoulders and the warmth in my soul.