Trying to find a rhythm

A bridge, a tree, Roger, Tamara, Clara and Faz on green grass in Nowra, on the first evening of our road trip down the Princes Highway.

We hadn't left Sydney proper until well into the afternoon, so we didn't travel far that first day. When we found an area we sort of wanted to stay at, we discovered that a good number of the camping grounds were booked out for the night, not surprising considering it was the height of holiday season. Called around and we finally found a place that would take us, back in Nowra.

The place was run by, and was full of, bogans. This one bogan, a guy, had pitched a one-man tent on the spot next to us. As the night progressed, he got progressively drunk. Roger struck up a conversation with him. Said his woman had kicked him out. Poor guy. Homeless and woman-less for New Years.

We got the hell outta there in the morning, before Tamara realised she forgot her towel on the clothes line. Half an hour later, we got the hell outta there for the final time.

I bought a new camera

You see, in this world of new technology and high-speed broadband internet, we have the opportunity to log, and access, every piece of data that we can somehow be associated with. It was a quirky thing that for some reason I dallied with in 2006 [GP, if you must ask], but I'm wondering today what to make of it.

If you find your way to the Flickr page of this picture, you can click, under Taken with a Ricoh GR Digital, More properties [linked for your convenience].

Oh look, the exposure was a thirtieth of a second at f/2.4 recorded at ISO64 with the flash fired, into sRGB colour space with JPEG compression. It was recorded, to the second, at four minutes and thirty-seven seconds past seven, post meridiem on the twenty-eighth day of December 2007.

Some might say too much information.

Hi, Clara.