I had an hour until I picked up the former Bar Mitzvah Boy from his post-Hebrew School class. I decided to run down to the Sea Wall, the site of my beach exchange with La Dama de Lost Luggage.
Sun reflecting off ice and water was blinding and the wind bit into my face and hands with vicious teeth. The screen of my little digital camera was practically useless. So I pointed in the general direction and clicked. "Have faith," the wind whistled, "have faith."
So the wind knows something about photography. Who knew?