My Uber driver pulled over to show me the monkeys outside of this park. He thought that I would like to photograph them, but little did he know how much I hate monkeys. The flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz did me in as a child. I politely obliged my driver with a single frame.
Here are some memories of our youngest son Aaron. Much like the cobbler’s children who have no shoes, photographer’s children often don’t have pictures of themselves. I’m glad that I did capture some memories and I have been enjoying going back in time through them.