Last year, my family and I went on a trip to St. Augustine. Looking back over these pictures now means something more than I could I have imagined when I first captured them. More than memories, they incite a longing for travel (which has been next to impossible in 2020). But there’s something more: Hope.
St. Augustine was founded in 1565. In the 455 years since then (a staggering amount of time that is difficult to even conceptualize), it has seen hardships and strife. But it survived. And what remains are beautiful sites–testaments to history and to our perseverance–much like the church above.
History can be a terrible, hideous place–but if we learn from it and if we glorify the beauty, then the future can become wonderful and beautiful. Buildings from the past remind us: We will survive. We will get through this.
Will we remember the negativity? The turmoil? Of course. We can’t learn if we forget. But what will we revere? What will cause us to pause on our walk and snap a photo, and grin and share it when we discover we’ve captured that perfect image? Those pillars of good: Whether it’s a church, or an intricate garden, or a cobblestone street with simple-but-beautiful houses–those moments of everyday life, of creativity, and of compassion…. Those are the relics of history that will always capture our imaginations.
Why? Because it says that we can move forward. We can. We should. And we will.