Happy Hunting

I am not a hunter. When I was twelve or so I took my brother’s BB gun out to shoot something in an attempt to be all bad@ss (or something). I shot a little a bird out of a tree in our yard, and as I watched it flop around on the ground, until it finally stopped flopping, I felt more horrible than I ever had in my life. I’m still embarrassed to admit to this episode, and it still makes me feel bad when I think about it. End of hunting career.

Which has severely limited my recreational options in this part of the world (Recreational Options in This Part of The World: hunting, fishing, drinking, going to church, more hunting). Until I got my camera.

Still in Free Time Overload Mode, I killed half a Nora Robert’s novel, a foot-long Subway sub, and a (king-sized) bag of Combos before I finally decided to motivate myself to crawl off the couch and go hunting. For pictures.

I waited for that magical, dusky hour again (or so I told myself as I lay there under 75 pounds of pets, reading just one more chapter), and unfortunately, I waited a little too long. Most of the pictures are pretty dark, or shot facing into the sunset. Frankly, I am too impatient to read books or manuals to learn the Proper Way to take pictures (and I am definitely too impatient- and poor -to use any photo editing equipment fancier that whatever came with my computer and Word). I just sort of try to figure it out as I go. I’m still working on how to take good pictures in different types of light, and with the sun in the background, it’s getting annoying enough that I might have to give up and Google it.

But I still managed to get a few shots I’m not too embarrassed to post. (That’s right, own worst critic, and too impatient to sit down and learn The Proper Way to be better. Apparently, also a masochist.)

 

 

 

 

 

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