When I mentioned to my mother the other night that I was working on a blog post, she asked if it was the last of the three promised "Best Photos You Never Saw" posts. And I had to say, why no, I'd totally forgotten that I'd ever started that series. Oops.
So it is in the spirit of self-improvement that I forced myself to complete the last post. And because years from now when my daughters read these blog posts, I don't want them to think their mom was lazy.
September:
I like this picture more for what you don't see than what you do. Yeah, the sunflowers are pretty and all, but picture me laying on my back on the damp grass, taking the picture upside-down over my head. You know, to emphasize of height of the flowers by framing them against the sky. Don't you wonder what the neighbors were thinking as they drove past and saw me?

A friend's burning bush shot the morning after a nightlong gentle rain. I was taking pictures as a way to get out of going for an exercise walk. Win-win.
Sometimes it takes the camera to show me what it right in front of me, like that my Bear is growing up. The subtle day-to-day transformation eludes me, but a single frame from an early fall afternoon revealed to me the young woman my daughter is becoming.
October:
Sometimes it takes the camera to show me what it right in front of me, like that my Bear is growing up. The subtle day-to-day transformation eludes me, but a single frame from an early fall afternoon revealed to me the young woman my daughter is becoming.
October:My favorite month in Maine at that perfect time of day, when the light is golden, slanting down from low on the horizon. And my baby on her new swingset.
I know, I know. More with the flowers. But I do have a point here. Watch:
Same flower, next day. And boy does that suck. Thus we slide into the long mourning period until next year's garden.
Halloween Night. Cleopatra would like to know if we could please go to just a few more houses?
I know, I know. More with the flowers. But I do have a point here. Watch:
Same flower, next day. And boy does that suck. Thus we slide into the long mourning period until next year's garden.
Halloween Night. Cleopatra would like to know if we could please go to just a few more houses?
November:
Election Night. Both Daddy Shortbread and Mittens were avidly watching the election returns on CNN.com. We never realized she was so invested in this election.
December:
Well into the thirteenth hour of what was supposed to be an eight hour travel day, Bear patiently watches a movie on my laptop without asking once how much longer until we get to our hotel.
Bug gets distracted by a new book midway into the Christmas Eve gift-opening. Totally immersed, with unwrapped gifts at her feet, she read quietly by the Christmas tree while the rest of us opened presents.
Finis.