Light at the end of the year

A year that ends with days of perfect light can't be too bad. Just a day to go before the trials and tribulations of this year can be metaphorically buried, while the memories of the year captured as photographs become idealised moments. Taking the picture is a self differentiating act, the camera only tends to come out when the smiles are full, the sun shining and the occasion suitable. A slice in time is removed, taken out of context and every contact thereafter imbues it with new meaning, usually a subtle adition, but always widening the distance between the image and the event. Pictures on mountains especially and most immediately fall short of the original experience. While mountains are out of bounds for now, my legs can just about cope with the beach and the light on the 29th was incredible. This lends the picture all the more power, making it the more capable of cutting me off from the actual event. Although the light was magical and the sea was playing its part admirably neither of these were the most important part of the half hour. It was the company of Gwen and Esmé, all three of us collecting shells and driftwood relaxed, at peace. With just a day in between, this kernel is already slipping, so what hope of remembering the truly important parts of the year?