Dandelion Burst

Our camera has this cool function called burst, where you can hold down the button (I believe "picture taking button" is the official name for it) and it takes picture after picture in quick succession until you release it. When you have adorable yet squirmy children, burst is the way to go, since you can usually get at least one good picture out of the thirty that you took.

Having said that, I have been thinking a little about how life seems to happen in bursts, with little (or big!) bursts of activity nestled into some of the more sedate, more uneventful phases of our lives. And how when those bursts do happen, it is often so hard to capture the real emotion behind them just because of the sheer volume and velocity of bursting that you happen to be contending with at that particular time. It's interesting to think about to say the least, and it makes me wonder if sometimes life is supposed to happen so fast that you can't actually process what you are feeling, because if you tried, you would be so weighted down with the sensation of it all that you wouldn't be able to even put one foot in front of the other. Perhaps it's better sometimes to not have the presence of mind to think about how hard, or complicated, or even terrible things seem at the moment. Maybe sometimes all we need to do is burst through what we can and contemplate it later when our full function is restored. Just a thought.

While you chew on that, here are some beautiful pics of little Lex on a windy day with a dandelion. I couldn't pick just one and you might guess why...

That's right: She kind of makes my heart burst.