With the camera I told a Bedminster friend--after my son's recent football game loss--never loses, I shot these photos. Interjection--my natural grammar (lack of it!!!) is ancient Greek. That's how I spoke in my teens. Very often. And it's how I wrote before revision, and grammar is still difficult. Ancient Greek is a straight line.
Surprised by best neighbor friend arriving on the scene. He's the guy in the photo below, blown away by the energy in the air. Steve and I have no plans at all but the agreement that another fortuitous lunch meet at the reservoir would be nice, my getting some more photos than I have today.
The Western Dream is gloriously more than west of the continental divide.
One of the anglers shore fishing rainbows called me over from my perch where I photographed. A whole school of close to a dozen rainbows, the largest about 20 inches, foraged in the broken whitecaps, the sediment roiled by the blow from the south. 70 degrees. Right there. Eight feet from my legs. You can make them out in my last shot.
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