Affinity: Doorways

Mr. O and I had been thinking of a get-away these past few weeks - mostly so we could be together alone (being together alone does have its special perks and attractiveness)

and mostly to get a reprieve from Mother Nature (she is a changeable woman these days what with all her spontaneous snowy weeping).

We had been hoping to fly, but decided last minute to drive instead.

In our driving team I am the Anti-Drowsiness Plan, reading aloud from both The Big Short and The 5000 Year Leap. Dontcha know? Credit Default Swaps and Liberty are the perfect combination, a literary O R E O, if you will.

Okay that and Dr. Pepper consumed with copious amounts of Chocolate Clodhoppers.

We spent a desperately-needed/much-anticipated day at the beach and it did not disappoint. Not too crowded, not too hot, with just the perfect occasional breeze. Although regretfully, (or not) there were no Wolf Man spottings this trip. AND fortunately, no sunburns to be had.

Then we drove. And drove some more. Winding through the wind-swept savannas of central California until finally we arrived at Hearst Castle.

Here we are together alone (you know, the special kind of alone you feel with about 50 other people).

Ahh, heaven.

We were two kids in a toy store, or rather two photo snappers awash in eye candy.

And, of course, doors (for which I have a thing)

This is one of my favorite spots, the orange-scented air was a nasal cocktail (and I should tell you) I drank heavily.

And so, drunk on citrus-flavored air, I set out on my photo safari.

I will tell you, though, on this trip there was this woman (it seems there is always one). She buzzed around anxiously snapping away, oblivious to everyone with the same objective.

Chawing her gum noisily, flitting about from frame to frame, inserting herself into each and every member of the groups members' photo albums. Thank the heavens above for photo crop.

Patiently, I waited her out stealing shots once she'd moved on, but the sound of my shutter snapping was like a magnet, drawing her back. Chck-it.

And there she'd be again, madly snapping away.

So what is your thing? What is your lens drawn to?