STORY AND PHOTOS BY AMBER KIDNER
The guard said I couldn’t use my tripod.
I said, “Come on,” a lot. Finally my husband said, “Let it go.”
After that, most of the pictures I took, using the ground for support, were just too soft for my liking, but this one is as sharp as the Holga can make it.
And after all that I prefer looking up at this tree from below anyway.
I love oranges, especially as fresh orange juice. It’s a good thing that oranges grow in India.
Don’t slide down this slide. It’s not firmly in the ground.
Also, it’s very rusty and on a hot day it will burn your butt.
Aidan will eat part of an apple but he will not eat the whole thing.
The remainder just sits on the kitchen counter.
I can’t remember why he got up to leave. Whatever the reason, though, it must have been compelling.
We sat in a corner of the café at a tiny table. Its surface somehow managed to accommodate all four glasses of water plus a card game while we waited for our lunch.