Tuesday, July 14, 2015


     I sit outside in the sudden dusk with a summer storm brewing overhead. It feels as though I am wrapped in a wet, woolen blanket, and breathing becomes a conscious act in the thick, squall-scented air. The neighbor’s porchlight blinks like a firefly between the trees. My camera and I are eavesdropping on the silent, electric communication between thunderheads. I record one fleeting thread of their furtive exchange:

“She’s watching…”


     In my ill-suited role as Il Paparazzo, I feel responsible for the short burst of temper that follows.


  1. Ahhh!!! Yes, indeed, look what you did!

  2. No, no, dear Nib, that was me.

  3. LOVED that first shot with the tiny little "firefly" in the distance :) We've been sitting on the balcony for a day-long rain...nothing picture worthy :(

  4. You caught a bolt ! Your words are perfect for the way it feels when the weather is heavy and stormy.