Shrine, Carmel

I wandered the grounds of Carmel’s Mission San Carlos Borromeo
      for a couple of hours late one August afternoon.
It was one of those times when I was prepared to photograph,
      but I didn’t need to photograph.
When I came upon this outdoor shrine clinging to a wall,
      surrounded by different kinds of vegetation clinging to the same wall,
            I said to myself, “I’m not sure if this is meant to be a photograph or not.”
I stood there for a few moments, then walked on.
A little later I retraced my steps, moved from left to right in front of this scene,
      and squinted my eyes as I paid attention to the coloring all over again.
Then I decided my first assessment was right and walked away once more.
But for some puzzling reason, the scene wouldn’t leave my mind.
So I returned and, without pausing to analyze it any further,
      I placed the image on film.
I had done my duty.
The slide sat in the darkness of one of my
      specialized file cabinets for five years,
            until one day I saw it as if for the first time.
And I found myself saying, “Yes, I believe this is meant to be a photograph.”
I suddenly had the sense that this image had been patiently waiting for me
      until I was able to see it for all that it is.
I’m grateful it waited.