A dominant impulse on encountering beauty around us is the desire to hold on to it— to possess it and give it weight in our lives. There is an urge to say, “I was here. I saw this. It mattered to me.”

It often appears in fleeting moments or unique circumstances—seasons, lighting, and weather—that may not repeat, or places we have never been or will never return to. How then can we possess it?

The camera is one option. Writing/drawing is another. I take pictures first. Write it down second. I have to see everything. I have to remember everything. 

Taking pictures can ease the itch for possession triggered by the beauty of a place; each click of the shutter can lessen our fear of losing the precious scene. Or else we can try to imprint ourselves physically on a place of beauty, perhaps hoping to render it more present in us by making ourselves more present in it.