The present was hard enough to deal with so that you couldn’t very well handle the notion of the future. He had noticed that it arrived in daily increments without any effort ~ Jim Harrison, Brown Dog
Hi, all. It’s been a while since my last Scene from a Stroll — three years, in fact, way back in deepest, darkest South Korea!
This shot, taken yesterday morning…
..is a way of buying me a little more time while I finish my almost-ready “real” post — and of introducing you to my new camera, which I’d only received two days before.
I’ll tell you more about it soon — at the moment I’ve still got a long way to go till I know what it can do. The Sony, er, “manual” was typically woeful, and what I have learned has come from a lot of internet trawling, plus a fair bit of walking around with it, pressing buttons, twisting dials, and pointing it anything that moves or, more helpfully, doesn’t.
But I can already feel the first glow of a very beautiful relationship…
As for this shot, it came about accidentally as I was soaking up some early-morning almost-Winter sun from my regular bench on the Sandgate waterfront. Racehorses from nearby training facilities are sometimes brought here for a run — or in this case a stroll — across the mudflats.
You can dimly make out lovely Moreton Island in the distance.
I was reluctant at first to put down my book, coffee and toasted banana-bread and butter (thanks, Mug Shots!), but soon enough I had my shoes off and was knee deep in rather icy water. That was after the vaguely Quixotic horse and rider had completed their excursion and a gang of very charismatic pelicans moved in to fight with some raucous seagulls for a tempting school of breakfast fish.
It was a beautiful, beautiful morning.
As for Don Quixote, it never worked for me and I abandoned it about a quarter-way through — too cornball and episodic, and I found the protagonist annoying. Maybe it was the translation.
I’m far more enthused about my current book, Brown Dog, by Jim Harrison, which I’ve seen compared to Quixote in reviews. Harrison wrote Legends of the Fall, which I’ve neither seen nor read. This collection of novellas is far more my thing, sometimes hilarious, often touching tales of a “backwoods nitwit” from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula who lives to fish, hunt, drink, wander in the woods, and engage as little as possible with the wider world, and then only to chase its women.
Right now it’s a deeply alluring fantasy.
Talk to you soon, I’m heading into the city today to meet a couple of old pals and take my new companion for some sightseeing!
If you’re interested, older Scenes from a Stroll can be found via a tag search.
~ And that’s all the Goat wrote