Finally Sorting the Photo Box This Week

I pulled the photo box out of the closet on Tuesday after work because the lid had started to crack and I figured it was time to move everything into something sturdier. The box had been in there since we moved into this place, and I kept telling myself I would get to it when I had a free evening. The closet smelled faintly of cedar and old cardboard when I dragged it into the hallway light, and a thin layer of dust came up with the lid that made me sneeze twice before I even got it fully open. Inside, the prints were jumbled together with a few strips of negatives that had curled at the edges from the heat that leaks through the wall in summer.

Most of the prints were ones I had taken on my old point and shoot before I switched to keeping everything on my phone. There were a lot from the first couple years Ren and I lived here, plus a smaller stack that Nana had given me years ago. I spread them out on the dining table and tried to sort by roughly what year they might be from. The table felt sticky from the afternoon sun that had hit it through the window, so I wiped it down with a damp cloth first and ended up with a faint lemon smell on my hands while I worked.

One group was from a weekend trip we took to Millhaven to see Ren’s aunt. The photos showed us standing by the lake with the water still and the sky that pale summer color. I remember the drive up took longer than we expected because of the dust that kicks up along that stretch of road in July; it coated the windshield in a fine grit that the wipers only smeared worse until we stopped for gas. We stopped at a little roadside stand on the way back and picked up a jar of spiced apple rings that we ended up eating with cheese for dinner that night. The rings were still cold from the stand’s cooler and had a sharp cinnamon bite that lingered on the tongue even after we finished the jar. Ren kept the empty jar on the dashboard the rest of the drive because the lid made a nice rattling sound when the car hit bumps.

Another set was from a birthday party Lissa threw at her old apartment. One picture showed the table covered in food, including a plate of those spiced apple rings she always brings to gatherings. In the background you can see the string lights she had hung across the ceiling. The lights gave everything a warm yellow glow that made the food look softer around the edges in the photo. I set that one aside to send her because she always says she wants copies of these older shots. While I was looking at it I found another one from the same night where someone had spilled a drink on the rug and Lissa was laughing while trying to blot it with paper towels.

The oldest prints in the box came from Nana. A few of them had dates written on the back in her handwriting. One showed a street scene that must have been from around the time of Lincoln’s second term, judging by the buildings and the way people were dressed. The details looked so different from how the same area looks now. The ink on the back had faded in places so some of the numbers were hard to read, and I had to tilt the print under the lamp to make them out. I put those in a separate envelope so I could ask her about them the next time we talk. A couple of the photos had tiny creases across the corners where they had been tucked into an album once.

By the time I finished going through everything it was late. I stacked the keepers into a new plastic bin I had picked up at the store and labeled it with a piece of tape. The ones that were too faded or bent I set aside to toss. It felt good to have the closet floor cleared again, even if the whole process took longer than I thought it would. I kept pausing to look at one more picture whenever I thought I was done, like the one of Ren holding a slice of watermelon at some picnic I had almost forgotten about. The bin clicked shut with a solid sound that echoed a little in the quiet apartment.

I still have a small pile left to scan if I get around to borrowing the scanner from work. For now the bin is sitting on the shelf where the old box used to be, and the rest of the closet looks a little less crowded.