Friday afternoon I went hunting.
Not for game -- at least, not the feathered or antlered type.
The day was sunny, and the village was filled with visitors. Perfect circumstances to capture candid photographs of people.
Shooting people has always been problematic for me. I can get the perfect shot framed and then take French leave of my courage before I press the shutter release.
I don't know why.
It is certainly not the old superstition of capturing souls in my unholy apparatus. If it were, I suspect my photograph would be marginally more interesting.
The more likely explanation is I don't want to be lumped in with even the most minor paparazzi. There is something unnerving about meeting the gaze of a likely target through my range finder. Perhaps, a vestige of my Air Force days?
After several cowardly back shots, I decided to seek my prey in the laguna. After all, the animals there are used to being stalked. The land of talon and fang is not bothered by the moral depravity of paparazzi.
Unfortunately, the wildlife were taking their own siesta. The only thing stirring was an iguana -- and some very shy herons.
So, I settled for the small spot where volunteers have cleared away a bit of the water hyacinths. I almost felt like Monet obsessively painting his lilies. At least, I stopped well before his 250 shots.
But I did bag a bit of prey for you.
