Sorry, but in the immortal words of one of the gay caballeros in Brokeback Mountain, “I can’t quit ya.” These reeds, I mean. I keep coming back to them.
After the storm blew out of my region, it left a sky with many subtle colors. The only way to photograph it was through its reflection on those things that are the signature of winter and gardens gone, but which appear in the minutes before sunset, on this day, to be painted with new life.
If I were a negotiator, I’d arrange to have the room where the talks would take place to be bathed in this light.
Who could argue for long in such an atmosphere?
OK, it’s silly but those ridiculous energy saving bulbs are not going to get the job done either, I can tell you that.
©Pat Coakley 2008
PHOTOGRAPHS CANNOT BE USED WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION
