If you read yesterday’s post, January Dreaming, you know that the inspiration for this series is my Mom’s longstanding loathing of the pitiful month of January. Like her, we’re dreaming of good times in warmer months, and celebrating those good times in this series.
Paris is charming just about any time…in the springtime (like the song says), summer, fall and winter… but I was especially enchanted last July on the way back to my hotel from a business meeting. The parade for winning the World Cup had taken place earlier that day, and everyone was either happy or in a hurry. I had a point-n-shoot camera with me and spent a very enjoyable 40-minute rush-hour taxi ride snapping pics of the tourists and locals as they darted about this very walkable city.
In Paris, even a taxi ride during rush hour is enriching and interesting.
My blogger friend The Storyteller makes lots of pictures, some of which he calls “What the Dog Saw“. These are photos he takes when taking one or more of the gaggle / pack / menagerie of canines in his household for a ramble. I alway like them (the photos and posts); they always inspire me. Take a look below to see what I mean; there’s a link to the post, too.
Segue to me and how this relates – I’m back at work this week after almost 3 weeks off during the holidays, and the 50+ minute (each way) commute has held some amazing sights. When the vehicle is stopped, I’m as likely to whip out my iPhone as The Storyteller is, to capture “What the Car Saw”.
This morning, it was a gorgeous, fiery sunrise, framed by a freeway and speeding cars.
A few days ago, it was birds, birds, birds. When I saw them, all I could think of was that old Bing Crosby movie, “Going My Way”. They were definitely going each other’s way. Together.
So that’s What the Car Saw. This week. So far. At least, what I could catch. The sunset tonight was one of those once-in-a-decade experiences, but only for a few minutes, and only when I was going 75 mph. So I guess the car saw it, but my camera didn’t.
Little House in the Rockies is our tiny cabin retreat in Colorado.
We love it. It is sooooo very peaceful.
View from the back 40
Always a beautiful sunset
Cute young buck on Boreas Pass
I can sit for hours and watch the birds and wildlife.
I was there recently, and pretty much just watched, and thought, and wrote, and photographed.
Of note were the chipmunks. They posed for me! When I looked at the photos later, they reminded me of high school senior pictures. You know, the incredibly attractive youth with the bright future posing in the sunlight for the professional photographer that Mom paid to get a great photo for the graduation announcements? What do you think?
I got a new camera for Christmas, the first one ever that has interchangeable lenses that detach and rates a case instead of rambling about in the bottom of my purse like my previous little point-n-shoot models. A respectable camera. A DSLR. I’m the family historian and photographer and have always been a shutterbug, but a very uneducated one. I didn’t even know what DSLR meant until I looked it up recently.
So – I have a lot to learn! I’m very excited about this new journey and wish I had more time to spend on absorbing the basics, but for now I’m mostly using the automatic settings.
I’m sharing all this to set up a photo for you. We had a snow day here in Southeast Texas in January, and then the sun came out at the end of the day. I took a very chilly walk about the neighborhood with my brand new camera and took photos of everything and nothing, just to play with the zoom lens. I was looking through my photos just now and found this one from that day, and it made me happy.
Trees and sunsets make me happy in general – how about you? They embody the reassurance of renewal; they speak to me through their beauty. Indulge me for a moment.
The trees are saying,
Sure, I lost my leaves for the winter, but don’t worry, I’ll get them back! I’ll grow a big canopy for you to picnic under come summer. I’ll be here for your future grandkids to climb.”
The sunset chimes in.
I’ll only be around for a few minutes – enjoy me! I’m here to remind you that while today was challenging, another day is on the way. My partner, the sunrise, will be here before you know it. Use the coming darkness to rest and reflect, and I’ll see you again tomorrow.”