Discoveries

"Look! Look!"
She ran into the kitchen, silken hair in disarray, nose running faster than her little feet, eyes bright with enthusiasm.  She had news to tell her older sister.  She settled for telling Mommy.
"There's Pink in the Sky!  C'mere!"
I couldn't resist following.
"There. Pink. And Purple. And Yellow. And White."

[There was no white, but it is one of her three favorite colors, so she had to find it.]

I don't remember when I discovered the glory of a setting sun, but I hope I never forget when she did.

I tried hard to photograph this moment, fiddling with my aperture and ISO settings as best as I could. [Can anyone tell I've been reading my manual?] 
I need some help, camera-wise.  A new {unbroken} lens would be a good first step.
But really.
This fuzzy shot is a good enough reminder, it will jog my memory when I'm a dear old wrinkled lady and my little discoverer is a mommy herself. 
It would be nice to take perfect pictures, but for now I'll settle with focusing my heart (if not always my camera) on the subject matter. 
I am on the lookout, maybe I'll find my own "Pink in the Sky."  Something tells me it is all about looking in the right direction.

Wow. I sound like someone in one of those 30-Second Self-Help spots on the radio.  A little cheesy and trite.  Oh well.  We all get to have a sappy day here and there.  I hope I run across this post sometime when I'm about to yell at those little discoveries.

Smelling the Summer

I came downstairs early today, courtesy of Ginger and her night of good sleep. An open window filled our house with the smell of a wet summer morning. It is a cool, fresh smell; before the heat of the day turns the dampness to sticky, almost mildew. Smells are strong memory cues, and summer is resplendent in their happy reminiscence.

Insect repellent is a family camping trip, delighting in the pain of sleeping outside.
Pond water is late nights with college friends, proving our adulthood by staying up too late.
Wood smoke is a charred hot dog, a toasty marshmallow, laughing and singing songs no one likes except by fireside.
Cut grass is a chore that I was willing, but not called upon to do. (I guess straight lines matter to some people.)
Coppertone is hot, sweaty sunshine on the beach, by the pool, atop the trampoline (sorry for the grease spot, brothers) anywhere that I could spread my towel beside a friend and lay about for lazy conversation with our eyes shut against the UVB.

I love me some summertime!