I woke up this morning to the sounds of a happily chirping cricket.
Laying in bed as the sun splayed across our bedroom, welcoming me to the day while this mischievous, single-noted melody danced throughout my head, banging into every crevice, every nook. Thoroughly awakening. Instantly infuriating. Playing his creepy fuzzy legs like a violin; visions of a tiny maestro in a minuscule tuxedo. Humorous, but no thank you.
If you haven’t guessed already, I have no allegiance to this particular brand of insect. I do not like their musicals. I do not want season tickets. I would prefer to never bear witness to it ever again. Indoors, anyway. Outside is another story. It’s their time out there. In here?
In here, it’s my time.
I have many a memory of trying to fall asleep as a child of the country, only to be inconsistently serenaded by the hidden little buggers. Once or seven times every summer they would stow away in my closet, only to start their party roughly three minutes after I closed my sleepy eyelids. Inevitably, a search party would ensue. Much like teenagers when an unwanted adult comes into the room, they would pause their boisterousness until I walked away from their hidden alcove. With my back turned they would start again and I would search and round and round we went. Eventually, I would come up empty handed and they would cheer by continuing their ensemble.
Maddening.
I digress.
The very fine point of this story is that one can only assume he was cheerily singing away because as immediately and insanely annoying as the cricket song is, it’s the tone that sets the vibe.
Much like everyday life.
Ahhhh, nice segue, right?
I had a wedding two weekends ago that involved me coaxing a rather preoccupied ring bearer into, well, him doing what I wanted him to do. It took a few minutes and by the end of it we were both laughing and playing around. His mom looked at me with a smile and mouthed thank you as she ran off to follow whatever dirt pile or swing set overtook his fancy.
I could have been pointed and sharp, exasperated to the point of never getting the shot I wanted due to him most likely either bursting into tears or declaring me the villain in his mind, or both. But why?! A friendly tone always sets the vibe for real smiles, authentic versions of ourselves and the overall aesthetic that we want to remember when we look back upon our frozen memories.
While I have not waved the white flag on my cricket frenemy yet, I do appreciate that a goodnatured approach to work, life, {insert whatever you’d like here} is noticed and valued.
Note :: I have launched a full-fledged attach on both the cricket that haunts my house as well as the one that has apparently taken residence at the studio today. I cannot be beaten. I will prevail.
Enjoy some pretty pictures of some stellar kiddos who always bring their smiles to get the tone for our time together!!
