This stretch of beach here in South Carolina is far from empty: fallen trees, ragged stumps, and scattered limbs litter the sand. They are all mute witnesses to the devastation wreaked by two massive hurricanes in two years.
At first glance, the beach is a mess. But take the time to walk among the fallen, and you begin to see the beauty in each one.
We are all witnesses in this life. We witness our own stories, and those of our family and friends. We remember the moments: the jokes, that vacation gone bad, the wedding with a wonderful dance floor full of friends and family. We pick up wounds that turn into scars, and we keep going.
Those teenagers from Parkland are bearing witness to what they have lived through. They are not silent, waiting for the adults in the room to change things. They are fighting now for what they believe is the right course of action.
I’m dedicating my last photo of the Witness Tree to the students of Marjorie Stoneham Douglas High School, for speaking out and giving hope that we can indeed change things for the better.
Silence becomes cowardice when occasion demands speaking out the whole truth and acting accordingly.