First of all, this is Grace’s photo, not mine.
When I see something beautiful to photograph, before I can even find the stupid camera icon on my $20 Android, one of my girls will inevitably whip out an iPhone or iPod and say, “dad, I got this. Your phone camera sucks.”
I wish they were this way about laundry and dishes.
Today’s word, birth, wasn’t easy. I’m glad for that. Flowers, puppies and bacon? Too easy. Evoke thought, struggle. I wanted a shot of Marie’s first real training session with this crazy good team she made for the fall. A birth into something new, right?
No way in heck I’m getting that picture.
Grace sat with me as we waited for training to end. She pointed out this cloud formation, and told me just why it’d produce a considerable storm. She spouted out words I couldn’t remember (why are so many cloud words so similar?)
See that strip above the cloud, that looks like white bacon?
It’s ice, I think. If I understood right. Or icy or ice-like. The combination of that and the puffy clouds that look like mashed potatoes (no gravy) mean there’s a storm. We were looking at the birth of a storm. My little meteorologist.
“On TV, know what the most popular words they say are?” Grace asked as she ran around in socks, firing a half-flat soccer ball at a stone wall. “Um, and uh. I wouldn’t do that if I was on TV.”
“Kaitlin Cody doesn’t do that,” I pointed out.
“Yeah,” she said. “Your girl.”
Guess what happened when we left practice, toward that cloud?
We got rained on.