I am throwing out this idea to the universe for a new Paint Night.
Long before I became so obsessed with photography, before I had a digital camera, I used to write. I told my stories in letters rather than pixels
If there is anything I remember about my Italian stepfather it was him saying after every pant busting, dozen course meal "Did you get enough to eat?"
I defy anyone from having a more bizarre experience than Jon and I did today.
I kept a good distance away made easier by my 100x digital zoom, made minimal movements beyond the index finger pushing down on the shutter and watched. The bird seemed unconcerned about my appearance.
With a start and heavy heart, I realized why, despite the endless supply of birdseed, one never sees a 300lb chickadee.
A broken water main meant the restaurant was biding its time to close after the last cocktail guest left. We however showed up hungry. But right before we headed elsewhere, an owner came out and said "Don't go. We'll make you dinner."
The vast beauty of my city (Haverhill, MA) presented itself like a gift and I experienced a near perfect winter day. It would have been perfect if not for that hopping robin.
When you live in New England, you're just expected to fall in love with fall all over again every year.