The picture shows a woman of what age? Well, past child-rearing age anyway. She's sitting on a park bench with her head tilted up, eyes closed, coat thrown back off her shoulders to better soak up the sun's warmth. She is tranquil, she is in no hurry, she is (momentarily at least) free of responsibility.
The inscription below the photograph reads:
Life does not begin
at the moment of conception or
at the moment of birth.
It begins when the kids leave home
and the dog dies.