So what do you do with all your time? Folks who aren't retired have all kinds of questions for those who are retired. I know, for a few years back, I had a million questions about what my future life would be like. And every person who's retired would have different answers. I've been thinking, after several months of my own inadequate replies, about how to answer more fully when I am asked--without being boring. You know you have talked too long when you begin to get a glassy look back or people begin to check their phones.

So here goes: the short version... (and in no particular order)

I'm loving life and my wife. I'm doing what I enjoy. Even saying "no, thanks" once in a while. I breathe deeply. I notice the world. I love my kids and granddaughter, and remember delightful times. I spend more time outdoors. I swim. I take ten, twenty times more photos than when I was working. I care for the yard. I help with things in the house. I fix things. I think. I learn. I'm getting re-acquainted with my spirit. I pray. I yearn to know and be known. I miss my old friends and try to make new ones. I eat chocolate.

Most, if not all of it, I did before. I just do it more often, and with more joyful abandon. I just don't want it to ever end.

On this Sunday morning, it is difficult to ignore the pain in the world: Ebola in West Africa, persecution of Christians and other minorities in northern Iraq, the conflict in Gaza. None of us are immune from sorrow and grief. And some endure absolute horror and injustice. And so much of it is beyond our control. And it is repeated year after year. It is not new. The pain is endless. Tomorrow, some one different will suffer.

And I do not understand why we consider violence to be entertaining.  The whole thing just hurts us all. Even words can hurt.

First, do no harm. John Wesley encouraged the Christians near him to avoid evil, do good, and love God. But first, do no harm.

Another shot from the Auburn-Cord_Duesenberg Museum in Auburn, Indiana.

I love this place and love these cars.

Two days of sewing so far. It combines her fascination with machinery (how things work) and her creativity. She and her grandma are making clothes for her stuffed bear and dog. She's learned to keep her thumbs out of the way of the needle, and how to put the presser foot down with a loud clank to annoy her instructor. She's intent on learning to do it right, although it goes slower than she would like. Fortunately, there is a pool for an afternoon break with a possible fudgesicle. Chocolate is a good reward for intensity. Works for me.

I admit that I'm not a fan of phone cameras, but every once in a while...

Football season begins soon. I've shot a lot of sports over the years, but it's the clouds after a late afternoon thunderstorm that adds the pop to this picture. I'm often asked about what kind of camera I use. "You must have a good camera." I do, but I took this one with my iPhone. I feel like I won with this picture but Vanderbilt lost.

I have sold this picture several times. I used it extensively when I began my website seven years ago as the signature image of "Day Six". It is connected to my love of railroads as it is the numeral painted on the side of a steam locomotive in Dallas, Texas. I purposely cropped the "six" this way when I shot it. This is the full image, although here I have added the appearance of a white mat and frame. I still like it after all these years.

This is a 1936 Stout Scarab, exhibited last year at the Frist Museum, Nashville.

This car possessed several radical innovations. It had a Ford V-8 engine in the rear with a tubular frame covered by aluminum panels. It had front independent coil suspension that pre-dated by decades the popular McPherson struts. It had one large door on the right side for passengers and a small door on the left for the driver. While there was a wide bench seat in the rear that was permanent, the other seats could be moved around so that passengers could even sit around a small table. But it was not a commercial success with only between 6-9 constructed. It looked like a large beetle, but could have been the fore-runner of the recreational vehicle.

Have you ever blown on a smoldering ember just to keep it burning, and possibly to become a flame again? It seems that it just takes a puff of air to create the possibility of fire. Here, in just moments, with the wind from the right direction, a smoldering forest fire erupted into a gigantic pillar of hot smoke. I was startled to see how threatening this fire seemed although it was miles away. And then the calculation of that distance provided another measure of how ferocious this fire must be. It burned quietly for days, possibly a lightning strike in dry timber. And then a hot wind changed into an impending disaster.

I've witnessed many times how hot wind can explode a smoldering issue into a disaster. Some folks are firebugs.