I find it is much easier to read. Maybe it is at the right point now.
Little Prince’s Photo Blog:
Partially as a distraction, and partially just to see what he would do with it, the Queen and I let the Little Prince have one of our old cameras. He doesn’t have constant access to it, but when we are out and about he is allowed to bring it along and take pictures of whatever he finds interesting. When he is older, I’ll ask him if he wants to start a photo blog to document and share the snaps he has taken. For now, though, I asked if I could share some of them with my friends and he quickly and happily said yes.
So, every Thursday this month, I’ll be posting one of his pictures. Maybe I’ll include some words, or maybe I’ll let his picture speak for itself… I guess you’ll have to keep checking back in to find out for yourself.
It was his idea to take a picture of me taking a picture of him. Again with the silliness, yes, but I love pictures like this. The Queen and I have several similar shots from our wedding, where our photographers got pictures of friends and family taking pictures themselves. Perhaps it is representative of our current society, where even our phones have cameras, and we all feel the need to click away and capture every little moment, from the meals we eat to the climax of our best adventures…
Oh how the wind can howl through the canyons. The sound of it drowns out all else. The force of it rips your breath from your lungs and threatens to knock you over. The chill of it dashes through, slamming against your very bones.
And yet, life of all kinds still flourishes. Roots cling deep within the soil, where all is calm, and hold tight against the trashing wind. Turmoil reigns above and tranquility below.
The wind will pass as it always does and the flowers will remain.
They sat on the outstretched branches and let their toes dangle in the water. That such a paradise could be hidden in plain sight, as it was, always surprised them but they didn’t lament the quiet, the solitude, the serenity. For those moments each day, when they slipped away from the world to lounge in their spot, everything else seemed to fade away. No cares. No concerns. No deadlines. Just the gentle lapping of the surf pressing up against the soles of their feet and the ocean breeze cooling their thoughts.
He laughed when his friends had told him not to go venturing alone in the dark. He hadn’t believed the stories they had given voice over their quick, shared meal. There were no such things as ghosts or goblins or anything else that went bump in the night. There was always a logical explanation, a natural one.
As the light approached, he called out for whichever one of his friends was trying to scare him to knock it off. When the light continued closer with no response and he hailed them again with the same results, he felt a tightening in his chest that he associated with fear. However, he forced that feeling away as he knew there was nothing to be afraid of. The source of the light would reveal itself shortly and he would laugh for having, even so briefly, let his imagination get the better of him.
Then the light passed, a floating orb, suspended by nothing, and unlike anything he had ever seen or heard of before. Nothing was holding it up and the light was so intense he couldn’t penetrate it to see what was creating it. It simply bobbed along, as though carried by the night’s gentle breeze.
Though it seemed to slow as it brushed by him, so close he could have reached out and touched it, he dismissed that possibility as his mind playing tricks on him. He was certain when he returned home and researched the area he would find that it was a bug, or something like that, native to the area.
He turned away, intending to resume his journey into the night, when the sight of it circling back around towards him caused his feet to stall. Then the tightening in his chest returned but he was powerless to ease the tension. Sweat broke out on his brow and his heads turned clammy. Its light seemed to grow brighter and he sensed that, whatever it was, it was hungry.
Rational thought and logical explanations no longer concerned him as he fled, a scream on his lips.