And he sat there stareing out of the window on a hot summer afternoon. Chin resting in the palm of the left hand; camera, on a monopod, balanced in the right hand. Little was going on in the yard and not much more was going on in the mind. They eyes settled on colours that mirrored the the mood of August: brown, dry hot. Leaves from a sycamore tree were the only relief from the monotones of yellows, browns on copper oranges. The wind was blowing but it brought no relief from the heat, but, instead, would gather up some of the dust and radiating infrared radiation, form a swirling vortex and carried to the window. The camera in the right hand, by reflex was turned away from the wind-born dust as it concussed it's way into the window. His eyes closed in a similar reflex but the hot wind jarred the indolent mind awake with visions of what the infernal regions might be like. The camera shifted to the left hand while the right found a glass of iced tea, both were brought to the lips and alowed to trickle into the mouth, there it was swirled around: what a wonderful thing hot and cold are. Suddenly a new colour blurs it's way into the scene of summer. A brilliant blue, glossy and in stark contrast to the total surrounding. The camera is trained on the blue visitor but the mind is focused now. Apeture setting check; shutter value check; exposure compensation check; flash parameters acceptable; focus reticle on head. The pre-exposure check complete the finger ever so gently squeezes the shutter release. That satisfying sound: sutters engaging and gathering that admixture of colour onto the sensor. The chin goes back to the palm; the right hand goes for the tea and the blue visitor is now just gazed upon while a toast is made to it's presense. That felt good.
