Late fall has her charms.
Some hints of sun will disarm.
Branches raise in joy.
I confess that I have trouble taking myself seriously as a photographer.
My body quakes whenever I venture from an automatic setting to manual.
Could it be all that camera terminology? I can’t help but wonder every time I pull out my instruction book.
Though more likely it’s my fear of technology.
Heck, I don’t even have a Smart Phone as I doubt I’ll ever figure out how to use it.
It seems I’ve missed ten tech upgrades during the last ten years while I was busy caregiving.
But I’m tenacious in my quest to keep trying, and to overcome those fears.
So Friday morning I was very anxious to capture the gulls flying overhead as I stood on a sandy beach.
It’s a special spot.
My mother-in-law and husband’s remains lie just beyond.
Moving in for the shot, I was ready to change my setting to manual until I suddenly found myself moving.
In what seemed like an instant, I was standing in a thick mix of sand and cool water rising above my ankles.
I quickly made my retreat.
Still I was able to snap one quick picture in transit.
I wasn’t leaving without it.
Maybe I’m a budding photographer after all.
Or more importantly, one now even more determined to rise above her photo fears.
Oh, and definitely any soggy sand bars.
It’s not Italy’s Amalfi Coast, or California’s Pacific Coast Highway.
The flyover state of Minnesota is my home.
I rarely travel anymore.
And I’m not a wealthy woman.
Yet maybe I am.
My rusty Subaru and I hit the roads early yesterday at 5:30 a.m.
We had a 7:00 appointment with the morning sunrise just across the border in Wisconsin.
And we made it just in time.
My just reward was a warm slice of spinach quiche from a nearby bakery, with sugary Swedish donuts laced with cardamon for dessert.
As to the Subaru, it was treated to a fresh quart of oil at the gas station.
Opening the car door, I noticed I still had plenty of coins left in my pocket for the drive back.
It seems the best things in life are still free.
Well, almost anyway.