I know this should be wordless.
But there's something magical about being captured in someone else's gaze, without your forced smile for the audience. In a genuine moment of contentment. My husband took this photo and in it I see his adoration of both of us. He saw a moment and grasped it.
My daughter and I are distracted by a small train pulling in in the distance. And that's significant for me. At probably the lowest point in my life, my friend's mother read me a poem about a traveler so distracted by the train in the foreground racing past without him that he failed to see the second train parked behind it, ready to board. She pointed me in a different direction.
I don't see the pumpkins. I don't see the sun dancing off my shoulders. I see the train that you can't see. I see the photographer I love. I see myself as he sees me.
And it's beautiful.