Empty Bucket

When the cameras become millstones,
And the eyes wander aimlessly
but see nothing that captures the imagination
The bucket is empty.
The artist date is past due.

Time to sit still
Observe, Listen, Absorb
The deep shaded portico of a coffee shop.
I sit at one end of the portico in solitude
At the other end ladies on facing sofas talk softly
Another table, a young man lost in a laptop
He could be Mexican or a vagabond through Mexico
I close my eyes and try to picture where he will go next

The shade is deep and a soft breeze touches my neck
But the courtyard, surrounded by plants, is brilliant
Some of the plants are old and need pruning
some need fertilizer
some need fertilizer and pruning
A moment of longing for my garden that now belongs to someone else
The birds sharp chatter in the citrus tree brings me back
to this moment in time
The Now
Where one brave sparrow flies to the fountain
He lingers only for a sip
No time for a bath
Bees cluster around the fountain
are they finding honey water

I take slow deep breaths
Storing away the smells, the sounds, the images
Peace and contentment fill my chest
All is good
My bucket isn't empty now
There are questions
How do you photograph peace and contentment
How do you photograph a gentle breeze on the skin
How do you photograph the sound of a trickle of water from the fountain
There may be no answers
But now the camera is a feather