The first cut I made felt like a stinging stab.
Early morning I carry a cooler full of eggs out to the road-stand. The dogs anxiously run ahead of me; they love hanging out under the tent. The first frost of the season clings to the grass glistening like a million diamonds in the sunlight.
The sun came out and warmed all the raindrops still clinging to every object as far as the eye could see.
I headed out with my camera to soak in the sun and to find something interesting to capture with the lens.
As I passed by my studio I wondered what surprises I might find inside. My art creations have been packed away for several years now. My studio has been locked tight. Boxes are piled high with paths barely wide enough for me to squeeze through.
Is it raining where you are? If not, could I share some of it with you? Continue reading “hurricanes and eggs don’t mix”