January 6, 2011
I may have to move. They say within ninety days. Step down or rather shall I optimistically say ‘away’ from my beloved apartment in the sky. The one with the Facebook-famous sun shots, both on the rise and setting, seen through the lens of my trusty Canon. For a long time it was all about my iPhone camera but with the encouragement of a film-maker friend, I bought a real one.
I am an amateur photographer who fashions herself to become more professional sheerly out of the awe I experience when looking out from my fifteenth floor terrace (the superstitious call it the sixteenth floor since they like to skip scary floor thirteen – personally I love thirteen which symbolizes love or ahava in Hebrew).
I snap the oranges, golds, reds and hints of blue as if National Geographic magazine had me on assignment. I run the freshly taken photos to my home office and download them as if heading to a dark room to process film for an important story. In a matter of minutes I am ready to share and voila, my Facebook friends can ooh and ah from places and climes all around. I wonder for a moment if they find my shots redundant but little do I care. I have a feeling that the sense of wonder I feel when taking the photos seeps through which is why a lot of the same people repeatedly “like’” them.
Yesterday it was less than fifty degrees on my Florida patio. My cat, Mochi braved the weather with me but scurried back in ahead , spoiled (like me) by our tropical climate. As for my birds who are really bred for the tropics, I can only hope their little birdie tents and feathers are warmth enough.
Back to the moving part. Where will I be next and what will I see that will stir me to snap photos? That is for now, a minor mystery. (and a prayer)
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