I was lounging about one evening while on vacation when my uncle who’d been out running errands called and told me that there was a pretty beautiful sunset happening and that I might want to get off my arse to shoot it. Hard as it was to stop doing nothing, I leaped up, put on my winter coat, fought my way into snow boots, grabbed gloves, donned a touque, wrapped a scarf, grabbed my camera and lumbered out toward a pretty beautiful scene. I wandered the beach trying different compositions and settings as the light slowly disappeared leaving beautiful color in its wake. It was great…great that is until I discovered that my camera had no memory card.
I cursed myself with a pox and then realized I was going to have to haul if I wanted any chance of catching the sunset. I set out at a sprint–well as much of a sprint as you can accomplish with the above mentioned snow garb. It took about 20 seconds for me to nearly die from my horrifying lack of physical conditioning. By the time I hit the road to my uncle’s house I was a wheezing, frothing, heaving mess of a human being. By the time I reached the house my transformation to Jabba the Hut was complete though I’m pretty sure he could move faster than me at that point. I grabbed the card and tried desperately to run back to the beach but, let’s be honest, it wasn’t really running by any accepted definitions. Fortunately for me, the best colors were yet to come and after some 10 minutes of trying to catch my breath I was actually able to stop shaking long enough to snap a few decent shots. Here’s one of them. It may be even harder to find time to take pictures but this hippopotamic land mass is definitely going to figure out a way to crow-bar some exercise into his life.