Driving for days across the expanse of the Great Basin, I find myself reliving the special moments of sheltering a loved one in my arms and finding shelter in their warm embrace. Just like the child in this week’s photo, these moments transcend mere physical contact. It’s not so much about what led up to these moments or what followed, but rather the precise instant when the mechanics of a hug align to form an ineffable portal where two souls intensely reassure each other: You are safe. You are loved.

I often wonder if my affliction with romanticism and sentimentality, bordering on a mental disorder, is what fills a significant portion of my waking hours with thoughts of these special moments and the cherished. Or is it society’s soul-crushing habit of pathologizing the actions and desires of the human heart that robs me of any thought that those I sheltered don’t continuously relive the moments themselves?

Oh, to be innocent again, where there are no questions when finding shelter. Where both the presumption and assumption is, of course, that the other equally treasures the shared moment.

And now… know the photograph.