The color of these azalea blooms seems almost unnatural. And the entire bush is absolutely full of them -- the few little bright green leaves are trying desperately to get some face time, but they're losing the battle.I've always been drawn to this color. When I go shopping, even today, if I see this color on a rack, it doesn't matter what it is -- my hand reaches out, driven by a subconscious force, to touch it. My first prom dress, junior year of high school, was this color.
I've seen pictures that show it's prom time yet again. It seems so long ago, yet I remember it like it just happened. I had a fantastic date (my gay ex-first-boyfriend) who picked me up in his convertible. He adored that car, even with the top that wouldn't completely latch and the passenger-side window that wouldn't close and slanted out of alignment into the door. I had to ride with my head practically on his shoulder so as not to mess up my first-ever professional updo.
I haven't talked to him in years. Last I knew, he was loving life in California, hoping to finally make it onto American Idol.
Camera: Canon Rebel DSLR with 60mm macro lens, 1/125s, f/2.8 at ISO 200. Natural light, in shade at about 7:00 p.m.
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