I love to write. I enjoy crafting a sentence and then distilling it to its essence. The product of my thoughts is for my enjoyment and to make me consciously review and analyze the experience.
The idea of cataloguing experience and thought was part of me before I decided to be an English Major (though I wound up with a degree in Finance). The reason I do not write more is borne of my faulty belief that one day I will catch up and put ink to paper. Time goes by too quickly to rely on my aging memory to be able to pull the once precise observations and allow them to be saved for me to see later.
Just as my photographs capture the untarnished moment, so must my words provide the caption to my adventures. So here is a photograph of what looks like bulls standing their ground in a field near Easton. Next post, I will leave a caption and no photograph and I will be heartened that I have words to look back on one day, that will fill in the gaps of my memory.