So we beat on...

F. Scott Fitzgerald may have been alluding to something else when he began that last sentence of The Great Gatsby, but it was the first thing that popped into my head as I pondered how to wrap up a truly sad week here in Virginia.

Thirty-two vibrant lives snuffed out in minutes. Where does one begin?

Well, I guess I can begin two feet from my kitchen window. At around 8:00 this morning, in Arlington, Virginia--forty-five minutes after the first moment of silence was being observed on the Virginia Tech campus, and almost two hours before thirty-two more white balloons would rise above Blacksburg today--a little bird was born.

I can say this with a degree of certainty, as I've been a bit obsessed with this nesting mother for the past few weeks. Like Tony Soprano and his ducks, I find myself staring up at her thoughout the day. Each time I imagine that there will be a bunch of little beaks popping out, and that I'll have missed the big moment for another year. But each time it's the same: she just sits in that nest, the same nest that has provided sanctuary from squirrels and other foes year after year, keeping her eggs safe and warm. And unless you're living in Hawaii, I don't have to tell you what a cold spring this has been. This is one tough mom. Even Alexandra, who has become a great lover and protector of animals, is on bird patrol. I love when she pulls her litle chair to the door and strains to get a good view of the nest. (It beats the time a couple of weeks ago when she found a decaying mouse and held it up saying, "Daddy, we have to help him!")

And so that's why I know that it was today, and not a week ago or yesterday or this afternoon, that this little baby bird entered the world. It was this morning, around 8 a.m., exactly one week after the terrible and tragic events at Virginia Tech, and, as I have said, minutes after life was set to start anew again on that wounded campus.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this little bird represents anything other than a little bird. But with so much sadness, maybe a little tiny bird hatching from an egg on the first beautiful Monday of the year is enough for one morning.

__________

Those of you who have been reading this little journal for the past few months now that while I may not be the most religious or spiritual person around, I do have a strong appreciation for those little moments of serendipity and chance that seem to follow me around.

This past Saturday, a woman named Mary Seale wrote a letter to the editor of the Washington Post, chiding the paper for poking fun at the deaths of several ducklings that had achieved celebrity status near the Interior Department. After all the fanfare of their birth, most of the ducklings were subsequently eaten by a goose. The Post's Reliable Source had a photo of the ducklings, each with an "x" superimposed on top. I remember turning to Maya and saying, "What a mean-spirited thing to do." And so when I read Mary's letter, I did what any crazy person would do: I looked up her number and called her to tell her how much I liked it.

This afternoon I received the following note:

"Dear Mr. Mendelsohn:

This is a very odd question, but are you the same Matt Mendelsohn who called me regarding the letter I wrote about the ducklings? I am only asking because, oddly enough, I was making reservations for our dog at the Olde Towne Pet Resort today and there was a link to you on their site. Washington DC is a big city, but if it is you it is a small world. When I saw the name on the same day you called, it was surreal. I read your brother’s book The Lost as well, one of the most moving I have read in years. I really like your blog--love the wedding stories. If you are the same Matt Mendelsohn-your call made my day, and I really appreciated it."

Small world, eh?

As Mary points out, I do, in fact, photograph people with their dogs all the time. Yesterday afternoon, I met one of my October couples, Sam and Chris, for an engagement portrait. Samantha had brought her dog Annabelle along and the light was beautiful. As we talked, Sam reminded me of what she did for a living. She's a nurse at Fairfax Hospital's Trauma Center, and given this week's shooting, we all know how important her job is. I know she'll scoff at this, but I feel proud to know people who do such important things as Samantha. I can make people happy with my photography, but Samantha can help save a life. That's amazing.

I've said repeatedly that I feel fortunate to consistently book such great clients. And it's times like these, when current events make us so jaded, that I realize how lucky I am to be around joyous events week in and week out, and to be around people who understand how important love is.


Take care, and let's go Hokies,



Matt

p.s. My assistant Matt Lisack is currently in Africa, doing IT work for the State Department. He emailed me tonight from Namibia and told me to get off my tush and start blogging again. Thanks, Matt! And for those of you who want to see what the other Matt is up to, you can read his blog here.

Also, I know a lot of you are asking about the new web site. While it may seem like we're slacking, rest assured that we're on the case. What started out as a simple desire for a new, updated logo and web site has morphed into a long, strange trip that I hadn't planned on. I promise it won't be long!