Tuesday, November 24, 2015

I Betcha I Can't Just Take One

I climbed down both banks. On both sides of the lake. I leaned over the bridge and shot blind. I lay down and curled over the lip to shoot what I saw. I broke a twig off a bush because it was in the way. A passing friend walking her dog ignored me, as she knew she should. I slid down the bridge toward one bank. Then toward the other. I shot and shot and shot.


Because the bridge, the pilings, the peeling paint, the rust, the leaves, the water, the reflection, the day so beautiful.

Here are a few of the many.

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