It is nearly dusk at the lake shore. The last rays of the setting sun reflect off the deep still water, the orange tones contrasting with its usual blues. Most of the water is still, except for right at the shore, where a large shaggy dog is bounding enthusiastically through the shallows to the shore, sending spray, sand, mud, and the occasional weed everywhere. On shore, the car is packed, and the family is mostly aboard.
Everyone’s hopes are writ large in their expressions.
The dog has simple desires, and knows that he just got one last duck chased away before heading back to the land of fences and squirrels.
The children wish the week at the lake could last longer, and now clearly wish they weren’t about to spend several hours dozing in the car along with a large happy wet dog.
The parents also wish they were driving home a large happy dry dog; tempered by twin desires for a longer vacation, and a somewhat welcome return to their normal routine.
The duck’s desire is being realized below as the giant loud fluffy thing is loaded into the strange mobile box and driven away.
The basket would not sit still on the table. The lighting was perfect, but likely to change at any minute, and the basket refused to sit still. The cause of its unusually animated state stuck a nose out, and whined in a slightly worried tone. Then tipped the basket over, spilling its contents across the table. Eight puppies, suddenly liberated from the confines of the basket, set out to explore their new environment.
It wasn’t that much larger, of course. The table was only a couple of feet square, covered with a yellow cloth and eight black puppies spilling out of the basket that now lay on its side.
With that, the composition was perfect.
Later, in the darkroom, it became clear that even in the perfect light, puppies can and will move as fast as needed to avoid being in perfect focus.
I am an adventurer. I ride the rails, evade the law, and live free and rough. As long as there is another train on the horizon, I will always have hope. Hope that around the next big bend there is a place where I can find another stone for my soup pot. Hope that the next town will have work that needs doing, means to pay, and the willingness to hire day labor without references. Hope that I find a place to rest my weary feet at the end of the day.