After unloading my misery on you the other day, I feel like I at least owe you a short update on things. When I turned my friend in, the repair guy offered me a 99 percent chance that my hard disc was wiped clean. But one percent is still a shot, so I splurged on a double check and was rewarded with a back up of something resembling my hard disc. I shall not bore you with how all the pictures was magically multiplied by eight, because that would surely have me come off as a whiner, and first and foremost I am just happy that they were rescued.
This time last year we had snow, clear skies and direct sun and I got through it a lot easier than usual. But this time around we are put to the test, and a lot of us are failing miserably. Not seeing the blue sky or getting even a ray of direct sun for weeks in a row will do that to you. What you need is to consult your list of Things That Makes Me Happy, and go through it religiously. Here are some of mine:
Little handmade airplanes suspended from trees. (reads:) Higher ground. So good.
Coffee. I would never have been able to survive without coffee. And also I owe you this sign because it is part of the Irma strip. Only at the time the whole thing was stuck, the eggs were frozen and the coffee sign asleep (this was one of the rescued shots I fretted about loosing).
And more coffee. There is much to be grateful for here, on camera: happy guy (you gotta love a happy guy) with the coolest decorated little coffee Ape. And off camera: I was blocking the bicycle lane (narrow from snowfall), and not one bicyclist gave me hell about it. Every little thing counts.
Seasonal pleasures like freshly harvested stone free clementines with leaves. And squeezing the peels into the air (or on the skin) for the yummy citrus fragrance high.
Street art, the ultimate pick-me-up, this one is a Bert as you can probably tell. With a rare backdrop of blue sky, appearing just before sunset (you little tease!). It was almost too dark to shoot, but with Bert's you have to catch them while you can.
Getting lost in the details. There is no such thing as too much of a good thing.
Grab each other's hands, stenciled on a concrete planter. More than anything you need your friends.