When I first started working here back in 1999, I absolutely hated taking photos.

I had practically no experience with a camera, nor had I ever had even the slightest desire to become a shutterbug.

I grew up in a culture that was not yet obsessed with photographing food and taking selfies, then posting it all on Facebook.

My passion, my interest, my education revolved around expressing myself via the written word.

To paraphrase Star Trek’s crusty old Doctor Leonard “Bones” McCoy – “Damn it, Jim! I’m a writer, not a camera monkey!”

But over the years, all that changed.

A funny thing happened, I started to get good at photography. Even stranger, I actually began to enjoy it.

Now, I live to capture those perfect moments in life.

And by perfect moments, I don’t mean posed photos. I hate posed photos and only take them when absolutely necessary.

No, when I say “perfect moments,” I mean those instances of pure joy when kids are playing at school Field Days and having fun at local summer festivals.

I mean those solemn moments at Memorial Day services and candlelight vigils.

I mean those moments that show neighbors helping neighbors by stocking shelves at the Oxford-Orion FISH food pantry, fixing up senior citizens’ homes or adopting dogs from the K-9 Stray Rescue League.

Those are the real moments in life, not the fake Facebook/Instagram/Twitter moments desperately seeking likes, shares and comments.

Take this week’s issue, for example.

Just look at that front page photo of Lakeville Elementary first-grader Brooke Bourdeau competing in the sack race during the school’s annual Field Day.

Look at the big smile on her face. Look how carefree and happy she is right at that moment. Look how much fun she’s having.

That’s a perfect moment.

That’s a moment that screams, “Life doesn’t get any better than this!”

Or take a gander at the back page featuring Clear Lake Elementary students.

They’re petting an adorable rescue dog, learning how to do chest compressions, playing outside and experiencing how a military veteran properly and respectfully presents the American flag to a family at a funeral.

Now, there are some bitter and jaded folks out there – many of whom live their sad, little lives on Facebook – who would call these photos “filler” or “fluff,” but to me, they’re the moments in a small town that a community newspaper should capture, share and preserve for posterity.

I found special meaning in these photos this week in light of the mass shooting that left 49 innocent people dead and another 53 wounded at a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida.

My photos made me smile and were a nice break from the ugliness in the world.

They reminded me that although there is much Evil outside my front door and we have a plethora of enemies at home and abroad who will stop at nothing to destroy us and our way of life, all is not lost.

That’s because in my own little corner of the world, kids are smiling, playing, running, jumping and having a ball.

And guess what?

There are communities all over America, just like Oxford, where kids are doing the exact same thing and will continue to do so all summer long.

That’s something foreign and domestic terrorists will never, ever be able to thwart.

We’re not going to stop living our lives.

We’re not going to change who we are, what we do or who we love.

We’re not going to surrender our freedoms and the inalienable right to defend ourselves.

We’re not going to cower in fear or bow and beg or allow ourselves to be enslaved by a twisted, fanatical and false belief system.

We didn’t do it after Sept. 11, 2001 and we’re sure as hell not going to start now.

We’re going to mourn. We’re going to heal. We’re going to move on. We’re going to fight.

And we’re going to win, whether the enemy is a homegrown lone wolf or an overseas terrorist empire.

As for me, I’m going to continue to shoot my photos and publish them.

Every week, I’m going to show people that although there’s a ton of tragedy, suffering and pain out there in the world, there’s still plenty of light, love and laughter right here in our own backyard.

Trust me, we’ve got more smiling kids bouncing up and down in sack races than they’ve got brainwashed, murderous nutjobs.