just the memory
of my wife’s smile, hug, and kiss
make moment better

So sweet, right?

So romantic.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.

We have been married for over 30 years.

There have been high points.

There have been low points.

There have been low low points.

We drive each nuts a lot of the time.

When two people have the same opinion, one of them is not necessary.

In my mind that quote is attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt but I can’t find the actual quote in The Google.

My wife and I rarely have the same opinion.

(If we do, we suspect the other of changing their mind for the moment.)

For us, we are necessary to each other.

A perfect match.

We are growing old together.

Some of the edges are coming off.

Some getting sharper.

Good days.

Bad days.

Good moments.

Bad moments.

Memories of the good days and good moments.

Smiles.

Hugs.

Kisses.

Just in my memory, make my day better.

A perfect match.

work of the past year
the strangers who became friends
study wind and waves

Entirely random thoughts as I try to make sense of a day that by 9AM had me ready to chuck 20 years experience in the bin and go on with life.

Surfing the ‘net, I came across a story about the difficulty of taking great photos of … surfers!

Beat that!

The choice of words and the passion that came through the words stuck a note.

The author writes, “These are planned shots that we all see in our heads but take tons of luck and cooperation by nature to work. When they do, it’s the best feeling ever!”

The best feeling ever.

I used to have that at work a lot.

Of late I feel like I am running when a brick wall drops in front of me and forces me to another direction.

Then another wall drops.

Another direction.

Another wall.

Another direction.

The area around me decreases.

Running out of directions to turn.

Running out of room.

Out of room?

Sometimes you hear word combinations that you like.

Sometimes you hear word combinations that hit your brain like a brick.

Study wind and waves.

Study wind and waves?

SIGN UP ME UP!

Here is the bit of text with the story The magic of the perfect surf photo

The three critical elements to surf photography are good light, good surfers and good waves. Most of us photographers get up early to take advantage of all three. Because the ocean is a fickle environment, our window to capture these moments may only come once a month. We study wind and wave charts like meteorologists. We factor in family and jobs, dropping responsibilities more than we should when conditions are right.

When all the elements align, when you’ve made it out there, swum in a turbulent ocean for hours and got home to see an incredible photo, your stoke is off the charts.

The surfers are often strangers who become friends, names and numbers exchanged, meetups discussed and planned shoots coordinated. The photos below, by several photographers, were selected for such a meetup – an evening in southern California last November with several surf photographers to share work of the past year

Josh Robusto in San Diego in https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/gallery/2020/jan/01/surf-photography-california-waves

one little corner
vegetating one’s lifetime
put down that iPhone!

Mr. Twain said, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.”

Flip this and not traveling, content to vegetate in one little corner, is a green house garden of prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.

Content to vegetate in one little corner.

Sounds like a fate worse than death.

Unless I am connected.

Connected in such a way that I no longer notice that I am vegetating in a corner.

Hard to see what is going on.

Hard to notice what is happening around me.

Hard to care.

If I am looking straight down at my hand the whole day.

New Day, Year, Decade
Same Drive, Same Office, Same Desk
Empty Calendar

Back at work after vacation.

It is a new day.

It is a new year.

It is even a new decade.

It all feels the same.

Right square in the middle of my desk is a 2020 calendar.

It is blank.

It is blank, for now.

Hard to imagine how it might be filled up.

Hard to remember how last year’s filled up as well.

Days crawl.

Years fly.

Both get to the finish line at the same time.