What I see when I see this photo

What I see when I see this photo.

The summer solstice sunlight dappling the water. Nostalgia for my own childhood messing about in rivers. My son’s delight at making a pebble rainbow. My daughter behind me banging a ‘river drum’ with her granny, while my cousin cackles with laughter. My big sister taking a photo of me taking this photo, also cackling with laughter. My dad watching all this from the riverbank with a soppy smile on his face.

Bracelets handmade by my mum – daisies for me, sunflowers for my little sister. My sentimental two-for-joy tattoo. My happy toes. My full heart. My overwhelming rage that other equally precious families don’t get to enjoy moments like this because of a few evil, power-hungry men.

Also, I’ve just decided this is a poem about shit generative AI is.

(This photo is my desktop background, so I see it often. And lately I’ve been experimenting with different types of writing and seeing and reading and thinking. So this *might* be the first in a series of posts… possibly. Or it might be a ‘felt cute might delete later’ sort of thing.)