Winter is not the most scenic time to be in the North Georgia mountains, but it is when I tend to do some scouting for the spring photojournalism workshop.
On the way back, I did a double-take, pulled a u-turn and made a frame of a non-abandoned store in the middle of a partial renovation.
The boss and I wandered downtown to one of our favorite spots for lunch, a place only accessible when the students leave town. Up on the wall was a running tally of the football season.
Someone tucked into a corner for a quiet call and an evening knock on the door brought a porch full of carolers.
The Mrs. has been busy with a show for the last few months, today was the closing performance which meant a few gifts and the start of strike.
A late night run for batteries, before the carts were collected and corralled.
Maybe they’re waiting on a loan to finish the project, maybe the bank is doing partial repos.
It’s what we prepare them for, that day we call their names and they parade across the stage with family and friends watching in support. Before and after, we faculty track down our kids, wanting to make sure they know how proud we are, too.
If you look closely, you’ll see that one of my kids shooting back and, over the shoulder of the one second from the right, the tell-tale camera strap – always a good sign.
