Belle Photography

This is you.
This is me.
This is us.

This is motherhood when it still feels slow.

When little boots leave small prints in fresh snow.
When wonder hasn’t been replaced by worry.
When they still look up at the world like its magic.

This is not a story about snow.

It’s story about time.

About the version oh him that exists right now, and will never exist again.

One day, the boots will be bigger.
The hands will pull away.
The light won’t feel as magical.
And you’ll wish you could sit under that lamp again.

This is not decoration.
This is remembrance.

🤍