My camera finally wheezed its' last breath at my sons' 8th birthday party last week. I'd had it for nearly three years. I can't really begrudge the poor thing for dying on me, I overused it terribly. It had been playing up for a few months, and with its' gradual demise went my pleasure in taking photos. I was always waiting in tense anticipation for it to jam, and as a result often hesitated before taking it out at all.
Luckily for me my Other Half, and other close family members seem to have faith in my photography skills and think it's worth investing in a new camera for me. Let's just say that Christmas and birthday have come early for BB. For this I'm very grateful. Taking photos calms my soul, inspires me to look at my surroundings more carefully, to appreciate the small beautiful details that are around us all the time.
Yesterday I went to pick up our daughter from a birthday party on the other side of the La Butte. Rather than walking around the back of the Sacré Coeur I decided to go over the hill, passing by the Place de Tertre, my new camera clutched to my breast. I think it would be fair to say this camera takes a good photo, and as ever this extraordinary city makes my job of capturing beauty rather easy.
In December, at 19h30, the Place de Tertre more or less empty. The wet cobble stones reflected the light beautifully.
The dome of the Sacré Coeur peeked out at me through the lights...
...and called out 'Merry Christmas'!
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