Capturing the Unknown: 3rd Place, Essay Memoir
Our third place winner in the Essay Memoir category is Sabrina Lopes! "Capturing the Unknown" is an emotional telling of what the author noticed had changed in her country through photographs, and learned how so much can transform in such little time. She shares her acknowledgment of what is happening to her planet and how, due to extreme heat and lack of rain, things are just not the same.
By Sabrina Lopes
It’s a humid, sunny day at the farm. I wake up to the sun glistening through my window. I turn off my air conditioner and open my window. A burst of hot, humid air comes into my room, and I can already feel myself start to sweat. I can hear talking, laughing, and screaming coming from the kitchen when I go to take my shower to get ready.
Downstairs, I see my mom, grandma, and all my aunts talking loudly while making coffee and breakfast for everyone. I walk into the kitchen and make sure to greet everyone with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I can smell the pao de queijo (very lovely cheese balls) cooking in the oven. There’s hot, fresh bread that just came in from the bakery with queijo de minas frescal set on the table.
“Good morning, honey, how did you sleep?” my mom asked.
“I slept really well thanks to that spare air conditioner we had. This has to be the hottest day since we’ve gotten here.”
“It definitely feels like it. Your dad is over at the barn if you want to go see what he’s doing. He’s been there since 7 in the morning.”
“I was just about to head over there.”
I step outside and see my uncles prepping the meat for the barbeque we’re having later. The air feels so dry since we haven’t gotten much rain here lately. Passing by my aunt’s small garden, I could see that some of the plants were slowly starting to die. Their beautiful green colors were turning mud brown. I saw my dad walking from the barn. He came over and gave me a hug.
“Sad to see, isn't it?” he asked.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Come on, let's take your picture next to the mango tree.” He says, trying to change the subject. We walked over to the mango tree and I stood there with one hand on the trunk, a big smile on my face.
“All set. Beautiful as always,” said my dad.
“Make sure to send it to me! You know I like looking back at these pictures.”
“Already did. When you go inside, tell your mom I’m back from the barn and am going to help your uncles with the barbecue.”
I walked back into the house and there was my mom, grandma, and aunts sitting around the table still talking and drinking their coffees.
“Dad’s back from the barn. He’s outside helping with the barbeque. I’m going to go upstairs and change into my swimsuit to go into the pool.”
I ran upstairs, turned on my fan, and sat down on my bed for a minute to look through the pictures my dad took of me. Since we only visit once a year, I like to take as many pictures as I can to be able to see how much my family and I can change. Comparing the pictures that my dad just took of me with the same ones he took a year ago, I realized I wasn’t just capturing me changing over time, but also everything around me.
Looking back at the pictures from last year, the grass behind me was vivid green with healthy growing plants all around. The mango tree was full of yellow-green peach mangoes, with even more on the ground that had fallen from the tree. I remember going around and picking up the good ones to save and eat. My dad’s lake in the background was the fullest it’s ever been with so many fish that I remember feeding. Looking at the photos my dad just took, I’d say the only thing that looked the same was me.
The tree doesn’t compare in size. You could barely even spot a peach mango on that tree, and all the mangoes on the ground were brown. None of them edible. In the most recent photo dad took of me, you could tell the grass and plants surrounding me looked dry. You could tell it hasn’t rained in days. The lake full of fish that was once there is now more like a large puddle, not one fish in sight.
Here I was thinking I was capturing happy moments with me and my family that I only see once a year. I know I can look back and remember the pure and happy moments that happened before, during, and after the photo, but I just now realized the true meaning behind every picture. I wasn’t just capturing moments with my family; I was capturing the beginning of the end of a beautiful country.
Edited by Samantha Flaherty