There's an image taken the day of our wedding of my hands and my husband's hands. They are lightly rested together on top of my bridal bouquet, and until about six years ago I didn't look that closely at that particular photograph (even though it was in a large print hanging on our bedroom wall). As time passed and we were approaching our ten year wedding anniversary, I remember asking the photographer to try and get some of our hands. Now, it's a thing, a tradition of sorts--- I want to see our hands each decade we've held them in one anothers.
Hands show us so much. They can show signs of our profession (mechanic, artist, etc.), they can show our preferences (nail care, rings, bracelets, tattoos, etc.), and most of all they are evidence of our age.
As a photographer, I love to incorporate a quick photo or two of hands in a family session, and certainly on a wedding day. We forget how small our kids' hands once were, what our young and in love hands of our twenties looked like, what old bracelet we once wore for years...day in and day out, and we struggle to see the age in the hands of our parents and maybe even in our own.
I'm dusting off my blog post corner of the world to encourage myself, and any of you who might consider stopping to take a quick snap this weekend of the hands of this time, this season of your life.
