Ocean feels naked without the shield of a lens. So often a camera determines the story for the day. Oh, look at that, I have a picture from the day of a bird. Let me write about birds and me.
Recycled photos do not work. Here, what sense does this make?
I was sitting at an outdoor café in Madison and I noted that there weren’t many enjoying the warm summer evening in the same way. The street felt desolate because of the absence of aperitif/coffee drinkers. I shared the space with a bird and a bird at a café does not contribute much to a robust urban scene. By the way, this happened two weeks ago.
Yawn.
Today, I ran home after hours of teaching, exhausted. I filled myself with coffee so that I would not doze off and miss the fedex/mail/ups delivery. I missed the fedex delivery anyway.
I’m glad I am not a regular on-line shopper. I could not deal with this sort of nervous anticipation. Mine is a quiet life. Predictable. With minimal stress. And with photos. Camera, I need you.
