There is a fountain near my house that our kids love to play in, particularly in the 100 degree droughtish summer heat. Given our kids aren’t the only kids in town, our kids aren’t the only kids at the fountain either. It is a wet Mecca for soothing all sorts of boresome frowns.

I could lie and say that I watched and waited like a hungry lioness, an ungraved Cartier-Bresson, narrowing my slits on the decisive moment. But it would indeed be a lie. This photograph was a test shot. A let’s-see-what-the-right-exposure-is shot. A quickly hold the camera to my eye and click without the aid of focusing shot. Literally a point and shoot shot. Fortunately this young boy tip-toed through my field of view in ironic grand flexing style to show me what possibilities could uncover themselves if I truly did sit, watch and wait.

I would like to tell you my hunt was rewarded with much loot, but I would be remiss. I did indeed miss many excellent images of that boisterous wet day. Though I’m pretty sure I caught a photograph of some sort of rain dance, chant or incantation…

And so my son decided to race the water and the fountain, leaping with an athlete’s tongue and vigor through the relenting water.

Only to be trapped in a holoquatic prison of Prospero’s wave-worn conjuring.

Fear not fair reader, his faery sister lead him through the noisy waters with the clench of a freckled nose.

And after all was wet and done, the two were joined and dry as one in multi-colored majesty.