Songs.

What is it about sharing experiences that make us so keen on being able to retell a tale that we lose ourselves out of the moment.  Sometimes I am places that are so perfect I try to hide behind my camera.  Sometimes I'm glad when I don't have one.

I found a place of such overwhelming beauty that all I could think was how to capture it.  What a relief when I realized I couldn't, and that all I was left with was living it.  To be forced to be current.

And such wonders it was, rolls of whispy clouds folding back on themselves, glowing gold and silver.  A blue dome so delicate it could break at any puff of breeze into green or pink.  Tall grass waving softly over smears of colored flowers.

Look at me, doing it again..  Trying to share it all, but what a poor stand in..  These black and white crudeities, meaningless meanings enclosed in something so meaningful.  What an odd thing is our song, only in that we all sing to eachother.