Sometimes it is not about the image. Sometimes, it is all about the story.
This image is a story. Of the beautiful, hot late spring evening, when the storms passed quickly and far, leaving just a slight breeze, if any. Evening like that, are hard to come by here. And instead of going out shooting some macro, I decided to play badminton with my husband. Watching the birdie fly effortlessly reminded me of many evenings years ago, and my grandma’s place. There was no traffic on the main road in the village in the evening, maybe a bus came every hour or two. We just played there, for hours, with other teenagers from the neighborhood. Same view on blue sky with clouds, and a birdie, flying back and forth. Summer.