Images that Surprize

I don't see the shadows when I am taking pictures, probably a metaphor as well for the way I live my real life, but I will deal with that later.

To be specific, I am noticing that I don't see the shadows when I am using my camera. When I check the viewing screen and see a long shadow across one of my pictures, I look back up to see if that shadow is there in real life.

Now when I walk along and don't have my camera in my hand, I am trying to train my eye -- look for those shadows so that I don't have so much trouble spotting them when I get the camera up to my face for a snapshot.

Other images surprize me as I walk along the street.

In this picture you can see Glen, Connor and Laynie ahead of me.

I am taking a picture of construction in the middle of the sidewalk, people walking around it, seemingly no worries that the bucket full of gravel could do them any damage.

I don't think I really caught the fact that the brown bucket in the middle of the picture is just swinging there, full of gravel, on its way up to be dumped into a truck and people are just walking by it within arms reaching distance.

Laynie stood still for a moment so I could get a picture of her.

But I don't think I got the image I was looking for.

How does one capture the face of a person who comes to London takes 2 day trips outside of London and sees 17 shows in 21 days while she is in London.

And that is knowing the proviso that theatres are dark on Sundays.

She took on the task as homework before she got here -- buying some of the sound tracks and listening to them before she got to the theatres.

I don't think I can name 17 shows, though like her, I might have seen 17 as well.

Hard to know what to take pictures of when there are so many beautiful buildings here.

I used to think that I was pointing the lens of my camera upward to capture the height of the buildings, but now I think it is hard not to be after the amazing beauty of the details in the spires, cornices, medallions and pillars that decorate the exteriors of the old buildings.

Love,

Arta