photos flickr

They’ve been piled haphazardly on a shelf next to my desk for nearly a decade, and I knew I’d have to tackle them eventually. Two weeks ago, I decided it was time; scooping up all the ones I’d found, I hurried to work and then dropped them off during my lunch hour.

Nineteen rolls of film. I knew what most of them were; I’d had 18 of them developed years before. Once scanned to photo CD, I could then upload the hi-res versions to flickr, swapping them out for my low-res versions on domesticat one directory at a time.

Ask people what they would save in a fire, and you will hear the same refrain of answer over and over again. Pictures. Photos. Snapshots. Wedding photos, baby photos, ancestor photos; they’re as irreplaceable as they are priceless. (In reality? It’s wishful thinking. When your world is aflame, you save yourself and hope for the best — says she who came out of a burning house holding her glasses and one shoe.)