Looking out the windows to admire Mother Nature's decorating talents, as widening white remains of a jet trail in blue sky appear to weave through tall tops of a shining row of sycamores. An altogether lovely morning!
You might ask, where is the photograph of what I saw? I didn't take a photograph. I simply sat in solitude, enjoying what I saw.
For me, the privilege would never be the photograph. The privilege would be the BEING there, and noticing, and giving it my recognition and my time.
