Move a inch or a foot,
sometimes even a mile,
just to get that one shot
where the light is perfect
with a smudge of foreground
before the light show's glow.
I feel Orion's hand
guiding the camera
respecting my hunting
even if the sought prey
is not what he once stalked,
knowing my soul forages.
Not alone in this quest,
others join in nearby.
Shutters click, sighs, comments
all about our target
as she rises or sets
painting the sky gently.
We are the Solar Paparazzi,
seeking beauty around us each day
to share with others or just our souls.
Silhouettes dance wildly
before the changing sky
or stand still in respect
of the moment Ra dives
beneath the distant edge
where the world doth end.
Orange and pinks shine,
lavender hues sneak in
to try the tint limits
the tool in hand sets down
as the rules for this hunt,
which is a timed event.
Golden air, Angry reds
each color sends ciphers
read best by the elders
who know that lore from youth
and try to pass it down
across generations.
We are the Solar Paparazzi,
Rising early, bedding down later,
but we treasure every moment.
... unless Sol hides from our stalking lens.
31May2013 - Dyfedd Rex
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