Making rain.

Limbs laden with peaches, green and blushing, growing fast and big. Who do I want to thin, and when, and why? These tiny ones fall at the touch, leaving only bigger, hardier fruits. Just one I find wrinkled and nibbled. Happy little peach tree. Knocking gently those that will go, those that will grow let ‘em.

Redtails down the road are weaning themselves from the nest. Needle Rock is glowing. By missing shots all day I’ve learned my specialty, as I always knew it to be: capturing a fleeting moment, ephemeral one-time combination of aspect and attitude, latitude and light.