I am in severe photography withdrawal. Alas, my second attempt at Project360 has gone bust; I simply do not have the time to think about taking a photograph every single day – I’m lucky I can find time to blog. Stoopid life, always getting in the way of my fun.
Part of it is that this time of the year is just so dreary. It’s warming up, yes, and all the snow is melted but nothing is green yet. No leaves on the trees, no flowers blooming, lots of gray skies and rain. All things I welcome, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not exactly inspiring me to grab the camera and start snapping away.
Yesterday, though, I couldn’t stand it any longer – no more pictures of food! No more having these men I live with say, “Get that thing away from me! No pictures! NO PICTURES!” No more of the dog running upstairs to hide under the guest bed when he sees me approaching with the camera. When we walked in the door after work and Beloved said, “One of the crocus out front has a bloom on it!” it was all over but the crying.
Only slightly mindful of the light rain that was falling, I screwed on the macro lens, tucked the trusty Nikon under my blouse and headed out the front door and across the lawn to the flower bed where we’d planted the crocus blooms last autumn. Sure enough, one lone plant had an exposed, yet unfurled, purple bloom on it.
It was a thing of beauty.
I bent over toward the almost crocus, as well as any fat Rubenesque woman of 47 can bend over, and snapped a shot.
Not close enough.
Oh, what the hell. I lumbered dropped to my knees, planted my elbows precariously firmly on the edge of the flower bed, focused my shot and took another picture. And another. And another.
Pulling myself to my feet (it took longer than I’m willing to admit to), I began brushing the dead grass and mud from the knees of my jeans and the elbows of my blouse when I glanced at the street. There, a small red car that was rolling by at about a ½-mile-per-hour suddenly sped up and the grumpy retired neighbor across the street who has already begun mowing his lawn suddenly became extremely interested in the water flowing into the gutter.
Perhaps I should rent out advertising space.
Oh, well. Undeterred, I went about the house, took a few more pictures, and got my fix for the day.
Fortunately, I’ll have ample opportunity to take many more pictures over the next few days; this evening Beloved and I take The Young One to Cleveland International Airport so he can spend Spring Break with the paterfamilias. Once he is on his way, Beloved and I will drive to Cincinnati, where we will spend all day Saturday with Jolly and The G Man (yes, you will be inundated with baby pictures this time next week). Early Sunday afternoon, we check into a small, intimate cabin in Hocking Hills State Park for four days of well-earned R&R, returning Wednesday evening.
I will do my best to post while we’re gone; I won’t have internet access, but Beloved will and we never go anywhere without our laptops. If I can’t, due to time or inclination, I will be back and it will be business as usual at the Sushi Bar next Thursday.
Have a lovely weekend, y’all.