I took a walk late this afternoon.  It was pretty cold, near freezing.  But I needed to get out of the house and get some exercise.  It was also the one year anniversary of the day my father passed away.  I wanted to think about him a little.  When I started the walk, it was almost exactly the hour he left this earth one year ago.  Solo walks help with thinking.

I walked up to Louisa Boren Park, about a mile from my home.  It's a common destination to point towards.  The view out to the North Cascades is wonderful from this postage stamp park on Seattle's North Capitol Hill.

About ten minutes before this photo I had the tiny park to myself.  The sun was setting and there was still alpenglow light on the tallest peaks.  I decided to move on past the park.  About a block and a half away there is an intersection and decision.  Take a right and the way home lengthens by about an extra mile.  I needed the exercise anyway.  Nine times out of ten — heck, 99 times in a hundred — I take that right.

Tonight I took the left which doubles back towards this park and view.  I don't know why.  In that short 10 or 15 minutes the view had switched from sunset to moonrise over the Cascades.  I don't think it's quite a full moon.  It looks like it here.  But, later in the evening I stepped outside and the moon looks a little less than full.  

Nevertheless, I'm glad I took the left.  When I crossed back past the park, a number of cars pulled over and folks were drawing out their cameras and phones to capture the moment.  

Some mom or dad stopped and out of the minivan popped three 10-12 y.o. boys, each with a camera in hand, oohing and ahhhing.  They looked like brothers.  

My first camera was a Polaroid Christmas gift when I was twelve.  It was my all-time favorite gift from my childhood.  Today, it must be terrific for kids that age with all of the new cameras.  I expect we're in for some great visual works from that generation as they grow, learn and mature.