Breathless

I wish I really knew how to use my macro lens. I lie down, inch forward, squirm back, squinch, lean, hunch, stand, sit, set and reset every option, study the light and shadow and foliage, tinker, and still . . . nothing I take pleases me.

Breathe, I remind myself; relax, I repeat; remember -- it took more than a year to figure out a different camera and lens.

But the year unfolds now, always now, and still now, never waiting for me to catch up.