A new morning, a new week, a new month. It seems just the right day to resume writing a blog post a couple times a week. Then, there's the long walk Belle and I used to make each morning, abandoned for some reason weeks ago. As the skies brightened today, though, we were out the door.
The trouble is with that -- with the morning walk -- is this: Recreational walkers like Miss Belle and me have been banned from the golf course. Our possible routes are paved and mostly dead ends. And worse, the views make camera work a challenge. It's hard to avoid open garage doors, parked cars and power lines.
Continuing to pout, it seemed to me, would do nothing but put an end to the wonder of the new day, the new week, the new month. Two months of lamenting the ban is entirely sufficient. Without the unobstructed views of the tended course, what could I find to photograph -- besides, of course, leaves (see today's flickr image) and flowers, edges and curves, little things all?
The choice was mine: Pout or pay attention ...
The trouble is with that -- with the morning walk -- is this: Recreational walkers like Miss Belle and me have been banned from the golf course. Our possible routes are paved and mostly dead ends. And worse, the views make camera work a challenge. It's hard to avoid open garage doors, parked cars and power lines.
Continuing to pout, it seemed to me, would do nothing but put an end to the wonder of the new day, the new week, the new month. Two months of lamenting the ban is entirely sufficient. Without the unobstructed views of the tended course, what could I find to photograph -- besides, of course, leaves (see today's flickr image) and flowers, edges and curves, little things all?
The choice was mine: Pout or pay attention ...
There was -- is -- plenty to see. Absolutely. We came up a long slope and looked right. The ground fog warmly illuminated by the sun, the pine and myrtle back lit, the sun peeking through the greenery. I couldn't have asked for a prettier or inviting scene. Belle and I stayed in that spot until the magic ended.
And, I could have missed it -- by not going for the walk, by believing my worst, awful, negative self, by locking in on my expectations. It sounds trite, but our expectations can limit us terribly. While we keep our eyes focused on them, we miss the real and wonderful and invigorating view. How I don't want to do that.
The sky's the limit. Happy September!
And, I could have missed it -- by not going for the walk, by believing my worst, awful, negative self, by locking in on my expectations. It sounds trite, but our expectations can limit us terribly. While we keep our eyes focused on them, we miss the real and wonderful and invigorating view. How I don't want to do that.
The sky's the limit. Happy September!
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