Baggage

One thing I have to do this month is copy all of my photo archives from 2021 to Dropbox and memory sticks before erasing them from the computer. I've made this a practice every January because I take hundreds if not thousands of photos every year, and I can't store them all on my hard drive anymore without seriously slowing down the system.

I'm not a great photographer, but I do like looking back at and reusing old pics. What you're seeing in this post are some that I took in January of 2014. Keeping the old ones on Dropbox allows me to access them as easily as if they were still on my hard drive.

My photo archive turned 15 years old this month, and I realized many of the pics are becoming question marks for me. Not this sunset, however. I remember the walk my guy and I took when I snapped it; the weather was biting cold and my hands were numb. Although no one knew it outside my family I was going blind and needed eye surgery. I took a lot of walks in 2014, bracing myself to face the scalpel. Happily the surgery would restore my vision.

I still do the same things, too. Here is a pic I snapped of the same spot nine years later.

So what happens to our baggage after we're gone? I doubt my family will even look through this archive before deleting it (I'd love to be wrong.) It sounds a bit depressing, but I'm actually fine with everything gradually disappearing with me. I feel like while I was here I did not waste my time or my talent. I lived my dream. How could I ever regret that?