A few nights ago, after coming back from a run, I rushed back out with Abetoo hoping to get reacquainted. We hadn’t talked since coming back from South Africa, the G10 having temporarily taken over with her sexy portability.

That evening felt like spring at last, mild, calm, flowered and fragrant. Sunset came and went, not peaking much higher than 6 or 7 on  Mother Nature’s Richter scale, and I fumbled to regain my old HDR habits – bracketing plus and minus 2 stops at constant aperture, exposing to the right, locking the mirror, using a remote, being patient.

My bloody tripod is a great source of aggravation these days. I unknowingly blurred my first 5 or 10 series of shots by having the flimsy telescopic part raised half way; with 20 and 30 second-long exposures, it doesn’t take much shake to ruin a shot.

Luckily, English Bay and the Pacific Ocean always make up for my mistakes. They tolerate my photographic mishaps with optimistic enthusiasm and they are the kind of models that systematically let you manage to turn out at least a couple of decent pictures per shoot. Thank you both. I owe you.