I LOOK down from my vantage point. Amid the dimmed lights, there is only darkness, which pales in comparison to the city skyline dotted with specks of yellow and white. From a distance, I hear the faint tune of a Christmas song.
Beside me, my camera lies at rest.
Silence dwells for a moment, but not for long.
I listen carefully as the song reaches its bridge. It is then that I begin grasping for my camera. My hands quake in anticipation as I hold it at the perfect angle.
In an elaborate sequence that occurs within a matter of seconds, lights begin to flare from all over, engulfing the whole campus in a pleasing glow. My finger itches for a snapshot, but I know that there is more to come, that the grand spectacle has not yet arrived.
The fireworks follow soon. They whizz by, spraying luminescent sparks. I look at the sky in awe and realize: this is the moment.
I push the button and hear the shutter click.
In the end, the picture turned out partially obstructed and blurred by my excitement. It captures little of what I truly saw that night and even lesser of what I felt at that moment. My mind still contains the image of wild, vivid colors along with my excitement and, to me, that is enough.
A memory is worth more than a fine picture. F LORRAINE C. SUAREZ
