Abby's on antibiotics. Grayson's eardrum is throbbing more this week than his forehead (win?). I'm licking the leftover pink medicine inside Abby's plastic measuring cup like a raccoon in the night.
To brighten our spirits, last night we drove to a place where bridge meets water meets sunset. I had my Nikon and was ready to take back my life when all of a sudden, Abby's need to pee far surpassed all human understanding. The Port-a-Potty was an insult to her moon pie because it "does not even flush." Grayson was holding steady for his flustered parents but losing patience with his
In the six minutes before, I teetered my camera on a dock post, felt the lake breeze toss my hair and took some pictures like the old days. The old days of 2011 and 2012 before sand or hormones or irrational stay-at-home resentment broke the damn thing. Now, all pictures are accompanied with a little ghost: this small green orb in each of them. If not the creepy afterlife glow than there is a rogue prism of light or two. Fascinating display of good vs. evil going on inside my shutter and apertures.
Only, I just wanted to take a few pictures of a sunset on the water with a bridge and maybe a freaking osprey. It was too much to ask. I had no business asking. Moms don't ask. They give. And then they get floaty irksome haunted orbs in their jpgs.
Here are the results. Enjoy the Ghost of Christmas Past. And rainbow bits say Haay.
Hope your Back to School is going better than ours.
See? So. Irritating.
Well, this one's not so bad...
But this? Ugh. I'm over you picture poltergeist. Over. You.
Ooh, almost didn't see you there, Rainbow Bright.
Evil! This one just kills me. Put your finger over Elvis there and that is a pretty killer shot. Grrr....
Oh Look? It's the Land of the Lost with two suns!
One normal golden sun and another pain in the arse speck of distracting lime-green sun.
Ok, Rainbow Pants? You don't have to go home but you can't stay here.
Screw you sun, I'm going to take pictures of other things - without light refraction. Hmph.
Fine...one more little peek, I can't resist.
Maybe if I hide behind this here metal door.
Oh yes! No green goblins! No focus either, damn.
How long have we been here?
Oh dear, goodbye.
Sorry, not sure what's with me and rusty metal lately.
But doesn't this cloud look like George Washington's face with a gray streak through his nose? Just me?
I'm not an island lover but this turquoise business is one convincing argument.
As are you little seashells, as are you.
(I forgot to tell you, this man in the blue shirt caught a gator. On accident. Threw the gator back after he ripped up his net and got rammy about things on land. Gentleman threw him on a concrete pole and kicked him back into the drink. Yes, that is when all four of us took 390246702948 steps backward from the water and into a pile of red ants. Such northern blood we have.)
Urban Northern Pole:
My Wild Ponies