Well, it's that time of year again. The wind is blowing, and the sky is sharp and crisp and bright. When the sun starts going down behind the silhouette of oaks and ragged pines, the color of light changes and makes our little hill glow. Every spring and summer, I spend stolen moments after dinner trying to capture the light in a photograph. Each evening I tell myself, "Tonight I can't miss. This is perfectly beautiful. Surely the picture will show it."
And every year I miss. The glow, the magic, is elusive. It is ever-changing. Maybe it changes between the second I focus and the second I push the shutter? I am sure it has nothing to do with my photography skills. I am sure you will agree with me.
After one last try yesterday evening, I gave up and photographed a cat and vegetables. They might not be very interesting, but they did sit still long enough for the shutter to open and close.
The fence provided a nice frame, but where is the light? I guess it is shy. Silly light; I am your best friend. Hide not thy face from me. Pretty please?
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