Sunday Blog 174 – 2 March 2025
It’s one of my favourite childhood photos, ever. And there are a lot of photos. I mean, a lot. I think it’s my broad smile. I wasn’t always a smily child, in fact I was something of a brooding scowler.
I’m sure I recall that perfect Perth Spring morning, when the sun shone, but wasn’t fierce. The wind was only slight, not the roaring gale of a Scarborough sea breeze that came in every afternoon.
Mum has us the six of us children posed on the five steps leading from our front door to the terraced lawn. We had to find a spot to perch for the image. As a four-year-old I took up the least space, and yet I’m leaning back, my blond bob skimming my shoulders. I got the centre focus of this shot at least, my eldest sister, the birthday girl is half in sun, half in shade, beloved cat in arms. Ages 12, 10, 9, 8, 6, 4. All the gang like a countdown.
With my favourite purple dress on, a lace trim and an embroidered animal on it, as cute as everyone said I was. I remember how light I felt that day, alive, at home in my body and family. That moment of connection, belonging and joy was captured forever by mum’s click on the camera. My memory may be true or false of how supremely happy I was in that moment. But that spark of the woman I would grow up to be was already there.
We relaxed from the shot. Who knows when the bickering started? Probably within moments.