Capture the moment, the moments captured.  Aim, adjust, and shoot.  If you’re lucky, what you get will be as breathtaking as what you see through the viewfinder.  If not, try, try again.  The images remain, the images endure, the images are forever.  The images are but light reflecting off the objects of life, waiting to be captured.
Ser.  |  9.7.1
An effortless match.  Some looked and saw just a wedding celebration.  We looked and saw harmony and ease:  a grown man taking down two little kids on the pitch, two lovers on a gravel lane, a man in deep meditation, two best friends in the making, and a newly-hitched couple.  (Photos - Tays)  |go!|
Ser.  |  9.5.1
Once more with a measure of fondness .  We departed Paris for a spring trip knowing that the barren trees would be in full bloom upon our return, and that nothing we have grown accustomed to in the recent past would ever be the same again.  |go!|
Ser.  |  9.3.1
A terrestrial game of hide and seek.  Towering high above the desert rocks and sand, the otherworldly embodiments of two ancient kings rummbled past one another beneath a delicate blue sky and passing puffs of fleeting clouds.  |go!|
Ser.  |  9.2.1
A celestial game of hide and seek.  From a bobbling boat, the sun is seen moving, as it always does, in the twilight of a December day over the Venetian Lagoon.  Just about the only object not in motion is the little island of San Giorgio Maggiore, which from this vantage point may as well be just a floating church.  |go!|
Ser.  |  9.1.2
Six months under a blue light.  We looked one night and the old, familiar Eiffel Tower was awashed in a dark, ethereal hue; France had assumed the rotating presidency of the European Union.  We returned in the new year to find that the icy shade had left town (perhaps for Prague).  |go!|
Ser.  |  9.1.1
A dusting of snow at twilight.  The temperature has been flirting with double-digit negatives here in Paris but the steadily falling snow just would not keep.  But this day, as the sun rears its bright rays, a thin layer from last night’s crop defiantly clings on in futility.  |go!|
Ser.  |  8.10.1
Dahlias galore at the edge of winter.  A chance encounter deep inside of the Parc Floral de Paris, rows upon rows of dahlias, whose spectacular colors vividly contrasted with the fall foliage, stood proudly still in the silence of a cold October afternoon and the remnants of the long-gone glory of the International Dahlia Competition held each year on the third Friday of
September.  |go!|

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