pensive at 18 months

the camera sometimes catches moments that my eye would miss, or forget in an instant.  but i am thankful for that glass eye, and those pixels and bytes that sear it on the screen of my heart, a moment in time, a precious image of infinitely more precious living, breathing being.  thinking, as he looks for some sign of recognition in that long black lens, experiencing the mystery and wonder of his 18-month old existence through his own eyes, sure, and also through the awe and joy of his crazy-about-him father.