There’s always a first time for everything. Your first words, your first steps, your first breath of life. Firsts are special, like yesterday was my birthday, and I got my very first camera.

On that camera. I took my very first picture.

That picture was special.

It was of one of my birthday cards. A beautiful card, with swirly, pearlescent blue writing that read, “Fancytastic.”
I know, I know, fancytastic isn’t a real word, but they were creative enough to make it up. That’s what made it special.

Or maybe it was because the card was decorated with jewels of turquoise, sea green, and deep purple. The card was silver and sparkly, and kind of fancy for a teen. But, I loved it very much.

Though I loved the picture even more.

Because that picture was a first.

My very first picture on my very first camera. I snapped off a few more, a second. A third.

The camera is silver and shines like crystal ice. The pictures are sharp, bright, filling like water in a clear glass. You can see the water splashing around, spilling glittering droplets that swish against the cool glass and slide down, still shimmering. In the pictures, you see the people, the plants, the animals, the light, the life filling the little square with memory. Some of the people spill out, then duck quickly back in. The light beams against the smooth surfaces of the tables and furniture, creating a gleam, a glare.

I kept only that one picture because it was so simple. You could only see the sparkle of the card, the gleam of the lettering, the glittering of the jewels. Then you saw a rough carpet behind it, the color of pale peaches. That brings the attention to the beauty of…

The picture.

The moment.

The first.

Have you had a favorite first?