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.
purple serenity soothing summer evening sky clouds that drift and sigh
My friends stayed at Little House in the Rockies last weekend, and one of them snapped this lovely picture.
We get their photos from social media and feel oh-so-happy for them. But we also feel a little jealous because they’re there and we’re not. I like to call that feeling “enviation,” a mixture of envy and appreciation.
Enviation. That’s how I feel right now. I’d like to be on that porch at Little House in the Rockies, looking at that sunset, feeling the mountain air, shivering just a little.
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.”
A recent trip to our cabin, affectionately named Little House in the Rockies, reminded me about our Travel Day Dinner Plan Rule: no cooking, smorgasbord all the way! We’re pretty faithful about this, as noted in my post last year about it: click here. Road-weary bodies and hungry souls are quickly rejuvenated with this instant, no-fuss, luxurious al fresco summer dinner.
Treating ourselves this way on the travel day is exactly the right way to start a trip. A quiet, peaceful composure brought on by the mountain air is reinforced by the sumptuous cheeses, salty meats and seasonal fruit.