the morning after

Pictures can never words, they just don't give one the sense of sound, smell, and feel.

The morning after the storm on Lake Como the air is calm, the smell of coffee and fresh baked bread floats up to my room were I am still sleeping, and I feel as if life has slowed to slowest possible. Hardly anything is astir, with the exception of the hotel staff who are preparing breakfast and the birds who are already busy finding food.

Pictures are soulless, lacking movement and feeling and life. But, then if a picture told the whole story, I would be sitting back in Wichita, Kansas looking at a postcard rather then here.