Part II.

In which we head to the Fowlers, that being where we planned to go in the first place.
In which the sun sets as we ride along, we have sweet conversation, and I do not take Hannah's picture in the bus.
In which we come across a cool glade-thing on the way there.
In which we come across a sweet park-thing also on the way there.
In which William flies away.
And in which I take too many frames because I can't really tell if they're coming out right, and end up with so many photos that the ones at the Fowlers will have to come in Part III.

Along the way. . .

Bus stop. We had decided to be free of fear of men and just shoot wherever we wished, be it hamlet or hut. Cast off the inhibitions and proclaimed to the world through the two large cameras around my neck, the fact that I was placidly taking her photo at a bus stop, and the helium baloon that we were. . .
yabancis.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Yabancis! Cover your children's eyes!

Also: faugh and fie on cars parked near lovely light and grassy glades. Fie I say. But three cheers for the random grassy glades in the middle of Buca too. . . We were scurrying to the Fowlers' as fast as we could when we came upon it. Street to the right, street to the left, apartment buildings behind . . . but a glade nonetheless!

(see what I mean about cars?)

I love me some new spring-time grass. That alive alive alive green colour that only lasts a little while.

In case you haven't noticed yet, Hannah is kind of sorta a little weensy bit beautiful.
Like maybe a teensy bit. And I am no, not one tiny bit jealous - not oooone BIT.




When in the course of daily events there comes a time, around six thirty at night, that the sky decides to begin its bed-time rituals; when the light turns brilliant and the sun shakes out its hair into goldy flares. . . at such a time as this I become weak-kneed and cross-eyed from the sheer loveliness. I tremble in my flip flops. I take way too many pictures. I drool. Et cetera.

I learned so much from my own mistakes this shoot. My deleting rampage was an embarrasing but cleansing experience. I do not wish you had been there. Some were easily pitchable. Others? Take the below for example. Imagine this picture, except Hannah facing the other direction, face and baloon towards the light. Got that? AHHHHmazing, it would have been!



Neyse.
Happiness.



and finally. . .



part III coming soon. . . hope you like em, Wheely!!

- e