The Shelter of Two

I keep a small, rusted key in a velvet pouch, though I have long forgotten which door it once opened. It is a heavy, cold thing, worn smooth by the friction of pockets and the passage of years. We often carry these remnants of utility, objects that have outlived their purpose but remain tethered to our palms because they represent a time when we were protected, or perhaps, when we were the ones providing the shelter. There is a quiet, aching grace in the way we huddle beneath what we have, shielding ourselves from the sudden downpours of life. We move through the world in pairs or in solitude, seeking a canopy that might hold back the gray, even if only for a few steps. It is a fragile architecture, this business of staying dry, of keeping the heart from getting soaked by the elements. Does the weight of the shelter matter more than the warmth of the hand held beneath it?

Siew Bee Lim has captured this fleeting sanctuary in the image titled Sharing an Umbrella. It reminds me that even in the vast, open spaces of our lives, we are always looking for a place to belong. Does this image make you feel the comfort of being shielded?