Just what the camera recorded, no computer changes. My daughter and I were camping and I was photographing the sunrise in 2014.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: lemon.

Just what the camera recorded, no computer changes. My daughter and I were camping and I was photographing the sunrise in 2014.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: lemon.

Sol Duc is choosing a present for bushboy from the Barbie tent.
I don’t know if the cats know about the Barbie movie, but right now they just love the tent. It has a center pole. As soon as I set the pole up, a cat will go in head first and knock it down. The camping gear inside includes a back pack and camping stove and sleeping bag which belong to a Get Real Girl rather than Barbie. There are also some Barbie diving gear, fins and so forth.
Happy Birthday, bushboy! Don’t know what Sol Duc will choose for you!
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: presents.
She is disappearing as she reads. Why? What is the book? Is it the fire? The campsite? The woodsmoke? Something in the wood itself?
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: vanish.

Apparition.
Is this a lantern? I don’t know.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: lantern.
For today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: ash.
Red sky in morning, sailors take warning. Yep. It is pouring now.
My maternal family played a wild game every summer when I was growing up. Wild in that we were in cabins, on a lake, no electricity, no television, living in tents and cabins. My grandparents had two cabins, my Uncles each had one and we were in tents. I loved our tents, though. I still have the tent that my sister and I used. It is over 50 years old now and doesn’t leak. We had very strict rules about tent care. And canoe care. And we could use all the tools but had to PUT THEM BACK. We had aladdin lamps and candles and drank the lake water. We filter it now, and the cabins are still there.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: game.
I have seen the frogs
in the northwest
all you have to do is be quiet
near the puddles
or a pond
walk there very very quietly
in the spring they are singing
to each other
calling
a symphony of longing and joy
and they don’t hear me
when I walk very quietly
at the end of the world
as a child my father teaches me
to catch frogs
very quietly
approach the pond
or puddle
if the frog hears you
it will duck under water
you will only see a ripple
spreading out
or it will hop
into the woods
and hide
my father
would occasionally use frogs
as bait
to catch northern pike
a live frog on a hook
frogs scream
when you stick a hook through their back
I hope they go into shock then
and don’t feel much
one we’d seen this
my cousins and my sister and I
when my father got his fishing rod
we’d run through the woods
yelling “Hide the frogs, hide the frogs!”
and we would catch any frog
that was dumb enough not to hide
and quickly set it in the woods
to hide it from my father
we would check the puddles, too
feeling in the brownish muck
to make sure no frog was hidden
in the shallow puddle
come out, you must go in the woods
to survive
to catch the smart ones
normally
we would tiptoe to the puddle
hoping a frog was facing the other way
if they saw us, they were gone
slowly bend down, hand out
behind the frog
reach gently
grab just above the back legs
not too hard, don’t squish it
I was under ten
on a canoe trip
when I run to my father
“A frog! A frog! The biggest frog I’ve seen!
Papa, come help!”
My father comes.
An enormous frog is beside the canoe.
“Catch it.” says my father.
“Please! You catch it!” I beg.
My father creeps up on the frog.
His hand moves out slowly.
He grabs the frog, who tries to jump
and croaks, a bass, huge mouth.
“It’s a young bullfrog,” says my father.
“It will get even bigger.”
He hands it to me.
I take it carefully, shaking a little.
“We could eat it’s legs.”
“NO!” I say. I just want to hold it for a minute.
I turn it over and gently stroke it’s throat.
The frog goes limp, mesmerized.
I set it down gently, right side up,
near the water.
I squat by the frog and wait.
I am waiting for it to wake up.
The frog is so beautiful.
I wait until it wakes up
and returns home.
Sunset at Larrabee State Park last week.
This is for photrablogger’s Mundane Monday #72. Sunset at Larrabee State Park last week.
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