Last night on the drive home from Ottawa, I was thinking about some pictures I’d like to try taking when I get kayaking again. One of the things I like to do with photography is get unusual camera angles, and I came up with some good ones that I could use the unusual folding nature of the Coolpix to good advantage.
However, my mind must have still been churning away on these ideas because I had a dream last night. I don’t often remember my dreams, but today I do.
In my dream, I was paddling a kayak that was shaped sort of like a C1 racing canoe (with the wierd protrusions on the side to make them the official width), and painted sort of like a Christen Eagle aerobatic biplane. I was in a very large group of people. I had just taken a couple of pictures with the camera just skimming the water when the river took a sharp turn and got very turbulent, and everybody in the group upset. As we tried to get sorted out downstream, it appeared that I couldn’t get my paddle or my kayak, as somebody else had apparently taken them. I vaguely remember the rest of the dream as being an attempt to get my kayak and paddle back before everybody else paddled away and left me there.