Like a tourist

When you live in a foreign country, you forget to take pictures.  The sights, sounds, and smells cease to be "foreign" and therefore lose their photo-worthiness, in a sense.

But every so often, as we are headed out the door on a Saturday morning, to peruse the cobblestone trails at a local city park with friends like Graham and Ashlei (as was the case for us today), I remember to grab the camera.

Brave strapped in for the ride home, complete with head bandage.