A new page on the calendar. And a D-minus in blogging. A few diehards occasionally hint that it's time for another post and, believe me, there's a backlog of abortive attempts. I get the initial idea but then lose my focus. Enough with excuses. Let's see if I can focus long enough for a brief update.
But where to start? There's the rub. Too many fragments of this, that and a thousand other things swirling about in my head. I've been in hyperactive mode these past several months.With summer winding down, the butterflies are frantically flitting from flower to flower back near the compost pile which you wouldn't pick out of ten choices as a great location for taking photographs, but there I am, dancing after them, camera swinging, pleading with them to hold still for just a second --- on the passion flower or tall daisies they seem so fond of. Doomed to failure. They land, I focus and just as I click, they flit away. At least I'm not wasting reams of film. For every half decent shot I erase twenty five.
Not to mention picking a thousand daisy seeds out of my britches. The price for prancing about in the weeds by the compost pile for a few good shots and forty duds.