Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Blink and she's gone
Delray Beach, December 2008 [Click to embiggen]
While we were away, I rediscovered my need to grab alone time wherever and whenever possible. I've always appreciated the soul-restoring effects of getting away for a bit, mind you, but had fallen out of practice in recent months as supposedly more serious priorities ate into my unstructured time. My loss, as it turned out.
On this warm, bright morning, I slung my camera over my shoulder and set off for a short walk through the neighborhood. I had spotted a deteriorating, formerly grand old house on a road nearby, and with thoughts of Great Expectations and Miss Havisham dancing through my head, ambled across the street.
Along the way, I passed a set of water fountains and remembered my earlier adventures with dancing liquids (see here, here and here for other entries.) Since water had always been good to me, I figured it would be worth a slight change in plans.
I sat on the edge of the pool and paused for a bit. As I set up for the shot, I wondered about the ephemeral nature of water, about how the scenes I was about to capture in the following milliseconds would likely never repeat again.
All the more reason to take the time. You never know what you'll see along the way. And what you'll miss if you stay in.
Your turn: How do you carve out alone time? Why?