Some photos start before the sun even rises. I drove for more than an hour, hoping to get to a vantage point that would create a striking image. I wasn't certain of even where I was going, except that I studied the map thoroughly and had picked several possible locations. I had not considered that there would be fog. But there it was, as the sun lit up the sky even before its appearance over the horizon. It looked like the prairie was flooded with fog, or is that the river? I stopped and took several photos here and pushed on to where I thought it would be better photos.

Looking back, I realize now that it was a magical morning. The next location did produce some good images, but this one wasn't that bad. I even think there may be two photos here that overlap. One is the top 2/3 with the other being the bottom 2/3. Totally different pictures. I like all three. One of my friends claims that I enjoy considering all of the options. It often seems to me that there could be more possibilities. I think it makes me a fun guy. When you begin in the dark, you could find light here and there and around the next corner.

I don't like this aging thing. Oh, I like birthdays. And I like presents. And I don't feel like I'm getting old in my spirit. I'm maturing, but that is not the same as getting old. I generally feel like I'm fooling myself about this aging thing until my grand-daughter refers to her grandparents as "elderly." What?? Who's she calling names?

So I look in the mirror and wonder why my father (or grandfather!) is looking back at me. And every once in a while, my feet give me away.

They're flat. And some of the toes are crooked. And sometimes my ankles ache with arthritis like they belong to an old man.

But I like to feel the sand on them. Or soak them in the hot tub. Or pretend I can run fast and jump high, and even dance! (Judy would never believe that.)  There is a kid inside this body, still. He's maturing, but he doesn't want to get old.

Another mystery photo. It's colorful, maybe even intense. I have turned it 90 degrees and then again and again until I'm back where I started. I'm not certain which way I like it best. Actually, this view is upside down.

So, why take a photo of an old, cracked car window that has been distorted by time and the effect of water seeping between layers of glass? Why take any photo? Because there is something that you see that appeals to you, and you want to capture it with the camera. I'm probably more of a finder than a creator. I go looking. To find what I can see. The challenge is to take it in such a way that the viewer sees what I saw. For me, this photo fits in a series, that I've been working on for some time, entitled "Living at the Edge of Blue". So I enjoy the colorful detail in one corner that fades into blue vagueness in the other.

Somehow, it speaks to me. More than when I first saw it.

Today is the second Sunday in Lent. I first thought the tree, as it stood in the middle of an art community, was just a handy way to showcase one's creations. But I began to wonder if it wasn't some kind of a shrine or a wishing tree of crosses or a collection of talismans to ward off evil. I don't understand garish crosses. My last church had a large wooden cross suspended over the pulpit. It was a bit unnerving at first to stand there and deliver my sermon with the possibility that the cross could fall on me. I felt warned to be careful what I said. I hope that I was honest and truthful and transparent and not too careful.

A hot day, the ice cream treat finished, with opportunity to relax and visit with friends. This man's hand demonstrates a life of hard work. I suspect his handshake is strong, with calloused palm and thick fingers. I recall lots of people who had hands like these with fingernails that would never quite get clean. No pretense here. Funny how we are often more concerned about the dirt outside than the dirt inside.

This spoke to me because of the men I know who have hands just like this, and how often I notice and have to clean my own dirty fingernails.

By the way, this detail is a crop from a much larger image:

I shot this photo at the Park of Palms in downtown Fort Myers. I was caught by the lines and shadows of this leaf. I like the transition in tone from one side of the image to the other. Apparently the cabbage palm, not this one, is the only palm native to Florida. All of the others have been brought there and planted. All those snowbirds aren't the only non-native Floridians.

It has been a hard winter, even here in Nashville, and the deer who live in the woods around us are hungry. If you've been to our house, you know we live in the city, but also in the country. We see deer behind our house frequently. And now they have found our shrubs. So I hope spring comes quickly. Reminds me of one winter in Springfield where the rabbits were hungry. The snow was deep and my mother said the rabbits were everywhere and eating her shrubs. The next door neighbor and I both had live traps. We caught nearly 30 rabbits in a very short time. I don't know what the neighbor did with his prisoners, but I released mine---On the other side of the interstate, several miles away, next to the Baptist Church. I guess I was hoping they would be baptized by immersion. However, I think they multiplied even down there and were sent back as missionaries to the neighborhood. I found these 6 young evangelists in a hollowed out spot in my mother's yard, being quiet and still so as not to attract attention. But the deer are attracting my attention. Now I'm wondering if I shouldn't try relocating the deer to the Baptist Church, although I don't want them to be sent back... I suspect they would tell me, if they could, that they were here first. And I'm the critter in their yard.

The door is locked, has been for years. Everything inside is just the way it was when the owner locked the door for the last time. Time stopped. I peered in the window, and noticed all of the stacked papers, the decade-old calendar, the faded note from a child, the straw in the pop can, the old high school photo (was it his wife?), and all kinds of assorted keys hanging on hooks that opened a lock somewhere. It looks like there were all kinds of things that were unfinished when time stopped. If those things were important before time stopped, it appears they aren't important now. Many tasks steal our time. So on my list of unfinished tasks, which ones are truly important?