I have nothing to say about September 11 that hasn’t already been said.
Whatever anniversary it is of that dread day, it is also the anniversary year of my dad’s death. So… 2001 was not a good year.
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Our neighbors have a grandson in Afghanistan, in the Marines. In his honor, they built a flagpole, installed a solar light, and fly the American flag and Marine banner 24 hours a day. If I stand up right now, I can see them flying, eerily lit against the black sky, through the windows in the front room.
Today, when I got home from work, Tim was down at the stable. He wouldn’t be home for hours, so I didn’t have to rush in and make dinner. Instead, I leisurely watered the dying Sweet Alyssum in the front of the house. After a futile drenching, I pulled my camera out of my pocket and snapped a shot of Old Glory and… whatever nickname the Marines give their emblem.
Then I noticed the clouds. Clouds are a big deal. Living in So Cal, and especially the IE, the sky is typically a flat, colorless, smog-dulled pale blue. But this evening a tropical wind was blowing, and glorious clouds rippled across the sky.
I pointed my camera upwards, then across the street at the flagpole, then at the sky again. I took around 250 photos in less than half an hour. (Using the “continuous capture” mode helped.) Out of all those pictures, I got a few nice images of the American flag, taken on September 11, 2009.
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I was so busy facing east, that I almost missed the show going on in our backyard, as the sun set into the west.