Overall, on this latest trip, I was disappointed with the photos. Of the hundreds I took, I only maybe liked ten. And of those ten, I can’t say I was overly excited about more than five. Maybe I’m just being hard on myself. Maybe I should have had more rum. Maybe I should just go back and try again.
Whatever it was, though, I have to say that looking at them brings me back fast enough that color quality and clarity start to matter very little. The photos do their job, if I do say so myself.
For some reason, on this trip I decided to take a lot of photos of my beach chair. On the beach. Just sitting there, as if it’s waiting for you to come along and plant yourself right in it. Go ahead, have a seat.
Sit back a little. Enjoy the breeze.
Dip your feet in the water a little. Sink deeper and deeper into the sand with each wave.
Revel in the time you have to be all alone.
Ahhhh.
Well, except for this last one. I’ll take that. I know it’s hard to see, but I have my standard “I’m on the beach, it is nearly impossible for me to do more than turn my head” look. I’m sure you can identify.
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