The river was Gar’s favorite place to go when life was stressing him out, and after the fight he’d had with Amelia, he couldn’t wait to get away. He said goodbye to the cat–“Don’t make long distance calls while I’m away, and for chrissakes, no parties!”–and jumped in the truck. He brought with him a couple bottles of water, non-nutritious snack food, and the camera. He wasn’t good at photography yet, but he liked to pretend he was.
The river was moving fast today from a string of storms that had moved through the area recently. Jumping to the flat top of a big rock, he surveyed his surroundings.
Why not just stay here? he wondered. It was the perfect place to do nothing, think nothing. Give his brain a much-needed rest. Amelia’s accusations that he was an insensitive asshole still echoed in his head. Continue reading
I have more pics than I can possibly post at one time, so this will probably be broken into two blogs.
Matlache (French, pronounced Mat-la-SHAY) is a small, comma-shaped island between the mainland and Pine Island. It’s a total tourist trap, and I loved every minute of it except for the lack of obvious parking. This is what I think of when I picture Florida: colorful, happy, tacky. Heh.
This first pic is a panorama made from two shots. Click to see full-sized. The man sitting there? Isn’t a man. ;)
When this photo was first put up in the group, I took one look and thought Not gonna do this one, either. Doesn’t speak to me.
But Sunday morning, I was reading some SF, this photo popped into my head, and I instantly knew what I wanted to write.
This is what I love about these flash fics: they force me to look at things askew, approach them in unexpected ways, and I love that! I love challenging myself to come up with something entertaining and different in less than five hundred words.
Word count: 496
As soon as the students plugged into their learning units, I put up the photo. “Can anyone tell me what this is?”
There was collective quiet in my audio ports for one long minute as they studied the picture on their individual displays at home. I watched their expressions, making a note that Dir was secretly playing a game instead of paying attention. A sternly worded reprimand would be flashed to his parents before this lesson concluded.
I’d known they would be mystified. “This is what was known in The Great Past as a cowboy. Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what he’s doing?” Continue reading
Photos today, and two are of creatures I haven’t seen before. We’ll start with one of my favorites, the tricolor heron. He’d just caught a tiny silver fish when I snapped the shot. The water is still moving from his blindingly fast poke of the beak. I’ve grown quite fond of this fellow; he’s been around a lot lately and lets me get quite close to him.