Our times of triumph


When I was very young, I used to read a lot. Some episodes impressed me so much that I replayed them in a real life. As we all know, life and fiction are not the same, so I used to get in trouble on many occasions.

In that particular book, two teenagers, a boy and a girl, had climbed onto the roof, and lying on their back, watching the passing clouds dreamed about the future. The scene looked so appealing that I immediately jumped to action.

Next to my Grandma’s cowshed there was a small annex used for storing a week supply of hay bales; adjacent to it, under the same roof was a chicken coop. My plan was to climb a stonewall, then get up on the annex roof and from there climb on the cowshed roof, high enough to set up the scene as desired.

And I got there, laid out a blanket I brought with me, and sat staring into the sky. My future did not send me any hints. The roof was hard and rough, but I lied down hoping it might help, as per book. Still, my mind was blank. The clouds just passed by, I had spotted a few animal-like shapes, but it was clear that there was no excitement in it, my back hurt and I was getting bored and annoyed. I think it was the day when I learned something about a good literature and a fake literature. On my way down, the roof caved in and I fell in the hay – lucky me. My Grandma was so happy that I didn’t kill myself that she baked a plate of biscuits for me, and we decided to keep the story in secret, for our mutual good.

Later, in my bed, I was dreaming about the future. In my dreams I was a famous artist, and all the children books were illustrated by me. One scene followed another, all in beautiful, rich colors; people and animals did look like people and animals; there were sun spells, fresh breeze, pouring rain and flowing water, and it was all real. I made it live; I was that magician.

Very often we learn the life’s lessons in a hard way. Very often we get slapped in the face, and our efforts don’t impress anybody. But there are the times when we feel like all the spotlights are turned on us, and all the praises and admiration in the world are expressed for us, and these are our moments of triumph even if no one else knows that.



Pictures of my Grandparents and me. In the last image (1914) my Grandma is the one who is standing. Β TheΒ baby is my Great Granddad’s daughter from his second marriage. I named my daughter after her.




Photography tip of the day: For Nikon users starting out πŸ™‚


www.inesemjphotographyHave a Β great day!



  1. Wonderful photos Inese, there’s something very intriguing about old photos. I often find my experiences coloured by things I’ve read and have sometimes been disappointed when the real thing didn’t match up!

    1. Thank you Andrea! It is disappointing indeed, especially when you are 9-10 year old:) Sometimes I wonder what were the authors thinking about? Did they try it themselves? Have they been there themselves? It is like put your trust in GPS and arrive to the wrong place:)

  2. Inese!… You write beautifully… I liked the way you intertwined memories which that episode on the book you once read…
    Your grandma and your dreams about the future when the night had already arrived
    “My future did not send me any hints”, you said… Well it generally doesn’t do, but that is because we rediscover our “old future” looking backwards from our present…
    Such as, for example, in this case.
    The photos are adorable!. Great post, dear Inese ❀
    Many hugs, Aquileana πŸ˜€

    1. Thank you for your comment dear Friend. I think that the future didn’t reveal itself to me because all the settings were fake πŸ™‚ I was trying to be a person I actually wasn’t πŸ™‚ Well, I learned a lesson that day, and I was lucky the roof broke over the hay shed, not in any other place…
      My very best wishes to you!
      Inese πŸ™‚

      1. LOL… the one that always comes to mind was after watching Peter Pan on TV. I was so young that my dad’s big toolbox seemed high as a cliff to climb (it was probably 2 feet tall). I thought how the laundry detergent powder looked just like the sparkling “faery dust” that made the Darling children fly. So i scaled the toolbox and sprinkled the detergent/faery dust on my head and jumped high as i could. All the adults said i didn’t, but i was sure i must have flown just a little bit. A few inches at least. πŸ˜€

  3. Inese, this is a beautiful writing! So, so lovely and reflective.

    Thank you for sharing these photos! The warmth of family history really matters.

    And I must say I adore the asymmetrical collars on the white blouses in the last image!

    I shoot with Canon, but I clicked over the Nikon article anyhow. I would buy the 85mm over and over again. I have the Canon 1.8 – not luxury series – and it is the most beautiful lens. On my 60D it is a 136mm (1.6 crop factor) and that suits me just fine for nature photos and portraits. Some may think the 136mm too long for portraits, but I am a bit introverted, so I like to give my subjects plenty of space – I don’t like feeling like I’m too close to them that they can’t (or I can’t) relax while we create portraits together. The 50mm creates a more usual portrait focal length on my camera (80mm) and I’ve had one, but still the 85mm is great for full-frame of crop factor cameras! πŸ™‚

    Emily Grace

    1. Thank you for this comment, Emily Grace! I completely agree about the 136mm. My next Christmas gift to myself is a 135mm Nikon. Cannot wait. πŸ™‚
      50mm is a great little thing, and I love it on my Nikon D90, but on a full frame it is brilliant for baby photography. You can google Flickr group where they share pictures taken with 50mm. Unbelievable! πŸ™‚
      My very best! πŸ™‚

      1. You’re right – the 50mm is great for infant photos. I purchased a 30mm f1.4 (sigma for Canon) a few years ago, and it has been my “go-to” for indoor portraits, like newborns.

        I will check out the Flickr group. It’s so nice to talk photography with you.

        Have a great weekend!

  4. Beautiful photos, amazing to see how it was on the old days…and your bond with your grandmother with super secret story is so lovely! Thank you for sharing part of your history πŸ™‚

    1. Thank you for your kind comment, Indah. πŸ™‚ My Grandma was telling me stories about the old days, so did my Dad. A story is always better than a lecture πŸ™‚

  5. And those life’s lessons, the hard ones, are not that tough when someone that loves you makes biscuits for you πŸ™‚

    1. I still cannot figure out how to comment on your posts 😦 Love your music! Don’t laugh at me, I think the age doesn’t matter: great music is a great music, always.

      1. I don’t laugh at you at all! I find myself searching between my parents and sibling’s favourite music (they are all older than me) but also classic, electronic, jazz…and to what teenagers are listening today in day! Here in Chile, salsa, cumbia, bachata and reggaeton are a must! And even they were strange to me at first I am appreciating them now. I am so glad you listen to my posts and like them! πŸ™‚
        I will try to find a way to show you how to comment…damn it! I like my theme and I am so used to it I don’t want to change it, but I also want an easy place for visitors to have a look πŸ™‚ I will manage something!
        Have a great weekend! <3<3<3

  6. What lovely old photos! I pull out my old albums occasionally – the faces and places from the past always trigger memories…

  7. What a lovely story! “the day when I learned something about a good literature and a fake literature” Perfect and a far better story than the one you read! πŸ™‚

  8. More great photos. Love these. When I was wee I read comic books (in fact it’s how I learned to read) and I would stand under power lines in the hopes that maybe one would break loose and fall on me and I would be infused with super hero powers. Sigh. Never happened.

    1. Thank you for reading and commenting! Agree with you. Choosing our own way, or developing our own vision, or any other personal achievement is a triumph to celebrate in our hearts. πŸ™‚

  9. Love the old photos. πŸ™‚

    As far as real vs. fake literature… I remember my sister telling me I HAD to read this historical fiction/romance novel that had Scotland as a backdrop… (I had just moved back to the states from there).

    I made it through the 1st chapter… the scene that broke the deal: the main character was in a sundress and sandals, meandering through the heather, enjoying the sun on her face and the soft feel of the heather on her skin. *ahem*

    I threw the book down and never finished it.

    Great post! πŸ™‚

    1. Thank you for reading and commenting! Even being seven year old I wouldn’t dare to walk through the heather in my sandals πŸ™‚ Even that roof scene seems more realistic :)))

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