Vichy at Daybreak

Hard to imagine the last time I tended to this was in a snowstorm in Nebraska. Fast forward to a beautiful morning in July. My wife is sound asleep at dawn. I stroll out on the skinny verandah of our hotel, five floors above the city of Vichy. A smeared line of sunrise paints itself across the morning clouds. I stare for the longest moment, throw on my jeans and climb into the tiny lift that cranks itself down to floor zed. It seems like so many years ago I used to take to the street with two cameras strung around my neck (one for black and white film, one for color). It's easier to capture images today. So why does it sometimes feel so hard.