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In the summer I am barraged by images, that if it were any other time, I would be lunging for my camera.

Sparkling water...abandoned houses...candid shots of my kids playing, picnic food...and on and on.

But somehow I hold back.  These moments are precious, these times are not to be interrupted. Kids will protest, the wind will shift.

Now it is fall, I am camera less at the moment.

Again, the itch is there, the flicker, the inkling that something will be a good photograph. The shaft of light falling on yellowing leaves, the stack of cardboard boxes sitting next to farm produce.

But for now, these images are going to have to come and go.

I let their rich possibility steep for a moment and then walk away.

I try to focus on this time as an incubation period.

(One of the last photos with my now defunct camera phone. I had to try three times because it kept losing power...)

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