You see, I have this obsession with mustard. Those little yellow flowers that are EVERYWHERE at this time of year. I love their color, their perkiness. They seem so happy, in their weedlike way.
I was sure that we would have a great time playing among the blooms, and I wanted to practice shooting in backlighting with a relatively new lens that I've yet to "click" with (pardon the pun).
Except that I was late. And the tall weeds were seductive, luring the boys way, way off into the far reaches of the fields where our lenses and strict instructions could not reach them. The sun dipped quickly, and before we knew it we were running late for basketball practice. My friend gave up and packed her kids into the car. None of my hooligans was paying attention to a thing I said, or perhaps they actually were, for they were opting to do the exact opposite of everything I asked. And once I again, I was hollering at them to please, for the love of everything, use those big, beautiful brains that God gave them.
But then I got home, and I had these images. And a bunch of others. And I realized that sometimes the beauty is there -- it's just not the way we pictured it in our heads.
Sometimes I just need to take a deep breath and let go.
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