Hello from Georgia
We have been down here for a week now, and I can’t stop taking pictures. Particularly at night. (Click for larger version.)
This is a small, walled-in cemetery next to the house. The only grave I can see without getting inside is for an infant who died in 1832.
My little camera isn’t the best at low-light shooting, but if you don’t blow them up too big, you can ignore the noise. The shot above is a 1.3-second-long exposure. Shotgun is a bit lethargic in the heat, so there’s hardly any motion blur. You can see the cemetery behind him to the left.
You’re going to have to turn out the lights for this one. Taxidermy in the upstairs office, faint outline of the house against an indigo sky.
Here’s Sara and some cacti. Am I achieving a mood with this sequence? The mood should be: inspirational.
Finally, we were sitting on the front porch, when this happened:
I don’t think it has been as hot at night as it was that first night. I was crouching down, inching as close as I could toward the frog, and sweat was streaming down from my temples across my jaw. With my wet face I had the sudden impression that I had been crying, and struggling up from the floor was exhausting and tinged with desperation.