A couple weeks back, I went to Black Creek Park in Fultondale to photograph a scene I had espied while running there. So I set up and took a number of shots, though it turned out that I was a little late to really catch the flowers in bloom, and the photograph wasn't what I hoped it might be.
But as I moved along the creek's banks to see if anything else caught my fancy, I was accosted by a small band of boys, bearing a net, who were looking for fish. I told them where they were most likely to find fish, though I didn't dishearten them with the news that their net was too large to hold the creek's small specimen. Off they went, in the opposite direction as myself.
I then set up shop in the middle of the creek in the vain attempt to photograph another boring scene, when in my viewfinder, I saw the boys returning my direction, net empty. While a couple of them stayed back, two fellows, Nigel and Oscar, headed directly to me, inquisitive about what I was doing standing in the middle of the creek with camera and tripod. They ventured to wander out mid-stream as well, and I did not warn them quickly enough about the slippery rocks along the creekbed. Their clothes that were already dirty became wet too. After another minute or two of conversation, they asked if I would take their picture, so I accommodated them, then headed home to let Darby in and eat dinner.
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