by Penny Moss

Created on: May 26, 2008

The flame crackled, sparked, and jetted far higher than any level considered average. It was incredible how much heat the blaze produced even from a distance. There was something beautiful about the formation of color created by this destructive force of nature. Perhaps, if only for a moment, the devastation that was caused blinded the other onlookers as they too observed its beauty. It was nature in raw mass and it was a masterpiece. Yet, no one, engulfed in that moment, most likely, would later look back and applaud fire as an art form. Well, those grossly affected by it, that is. She knew as she watched charred pieces of what once was a home fall to the ground that her interpretation of the scene would reflect it more delicately.

As she snapped each photo she was not aware of anything but the image in the lens. Blue, white, orange, yellow, and red danced frantically and vividly. Those color hues formed a uniform blend of what would be a perfect picturesque display. Hurriedly maneuvering from side to side, circling, and laying on the ground she diligently worked, snapping to capture an image. There was a heart wrenching story behind it she knew based on the faces of those who stood on the sidelines hugging one another. Yet, for her, since she wasn't affected , it was just a moment to appreciate nature. This opportunity would not present itself again any time soon.

She wasn't a reporter. Not even a photographer by trade. She was an artist. It was these moments for which she always carried her camera. There were always moments of inspiration presented in a day and she capitalized on them at every turn. The thought or feeling of guilt never crossed her mind or heart. It was simply coincidence that had her standing in that place at that particular minute. She embraced the moment God gave her and savored it. This circumstance was only a second in time. Her craft that she mastered had allowed her to see past the negativity. Respectfully, she stayed far enough back from the activity so to not insult those who were personally affected by this disaster. And so, she looked though the telescopic lens, snapped scenes, and imagined a painting. Really, she could hardly hold back her excitement but considering the circumstance she maintained a somber demeanor. Somehow, she managed to get the snap shots she needed without being questioned. As she stood and watched the last of the flames doused by the firefighters, the family members comforting one another, and news casters

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