|Getting to the meat of the matter|
So once I'm done with the fuel thing, I pop into the store, explain my plight, and hand over my keys so they can take a closer look at the tire to figure out why it isn't holding air. The friendly mechanic says it'll take around 45 minutes. I thank him and head into the abnormally quiet store. As we've just done a grocery order, I have nothing to do and nothing to buy. I ask myself - silently, of course - how much trouble I think I can get into with the camera on my smartphone. Plenty, I figure.
So with a sly smile and a spring in my snow-covered-boot's step, I pull the smartphone out of my pocket as my eyes begin searching for anything of interest.
At first glance, it might seem like there's nothing worth capturing in a place dominated by concrete floors, steel shelving, institutional lighting and piled-to-the-ceiling merchandise. Then there's the fact that this particular store looks a lot like any other Costco in any other town. It's easy to see why most folks would leave their cameras at home.
But as my brain processes the target-rich world around me, I find myself wishing more folks would grab their cameras alongside me. For anyone who takes the time to slow down and ponder the possibilities, there's good stuff beckoning at every turn, the kind of everyday-ordinary that we see all the time but never really think about.
On the surface, this is a simple picture of packaged meat. On further reflection, it's a glimpse into 45 minutes on a cold, snowy night I wouldn't trade for anything.
Your turn: Where's your next adventure going to be?