I am trying to live an undocumented life but it is very difficult when one’s practice is to document everything.
This afternoon, flying a bumblebee kite, I thought about how I ought to take a picture of the kite, more specifically the string running from my hand to the bumblebee’s chest. That line, that string against a completely blue sky was the perfect shot so I looked around for my husband to ask him to get my phone because part of my undocumented effort is to quit carrying my phone in my pocket all the time.
But he’d gone inside after watching the beginning of the kiting, if that’s what they call it, and I knew he was probably napping. It was a July afternoon on vacation, after all, what else would he be doing? It wasn’t even worth yelling, the wind would drown out all but the shrillest, most…
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