In a perfect world I would have been able to capture the insane magic of hundreds of fireflies flashing like paparazzi in the back yard last night. It reminded me of driving down river road somewhere in hays county in Sara's ford truck, age 21, cutoffs still wet from the river, breathing in summer and youth like it will. never. end. Enveloped in swirling, flashing, incomprehensible beauty.
But my camera is not from a perfect world. It's from 1997. Not really. Or maybe so I can't be sure, but it's at least as old as the river road memory, and way less immortal. I am officially over it. I have the day off today so I promised myself some free time with flowers. Leftover peonies, parrot tulips, spirea and wildflowers scrounged from the yard. I had a ball and hoped to have lots of pretty pictures to share but it's time to face the music. I must get a new camera immediately.
This blog post isn't really about anything except fireflies and frustration. Headed out to enjoy this beautiful weather by the pool and daydream about my new camera. Cheers