VERSION 2

While vacationing high in the Andes Francis and Pat, my Mom and Dad (not necessarily in that order) misplaced me while shopping for colorful wool tapestries. Being only sixteen years of age I would have died if not for the fortunate experience of being adopted by a rare herd of wild Bolivian Alpacas who raised me as one of their own. That of course explains the spitting and humming. At the tender age of twenty three I was kidnapped by Peruvian Pirates who forced me to work relentlessly for about an hour a day mending nets for their Altoona fishing boats. Shortly after they went broke, I was rescued by Costa Rican missionaries and went to work in the Ecotourism business. My success in the monkey dung coffee mug industry allowed me to retire early to Boca Raton. There I was soon convinced to invest my fortune into a burgeoning young industry, Gator Scent Golfer’s Cologne. As the returns have been slow in coming I have had to take a job teaching at Texas A&M. You can find me in the Alpacan Languages Department.

Just another amateur with a camera. Hey Idle hands are an invitation to another pint. Thanks to the others for sharing. There are some amazing photographers here helping to prove the immortal words of Henry David Thoreau, “Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”

"We don't make a photograph with just a camera. We bring to the act of photography all the books we have read, the movies we have seen, the music we have heard and the people we have loved." Ansel Adams

"Every now and then I like to lean out my window, look up and smile for a satellite picture." Steven Wright

“Every time you make someone smile subtracts one cigarette from your life.” ME from “Excerpts of the Rica-Sutra”