It was one morning after a rainy night. Every wrinkle of the inconceivable antiquity of nature was well hidden under morning dew, but that never lasted long. The later was evaporated very soon in the warmth of the sun.
I was slow, too slow to capture only a few small drops. I did not explore what the wrinkle would look like, as I was distracted by some obvious ladybirds. And I was lucky, these bugs never got evaporated.
If I continued to be slow, I could be evaporated instead. Could I?
But I was ready to face the sun for many more shots, for those I had the obligation to make sacrifices.
I was still myself, but was suntanned, like what had happened to the ladybirds, in the end.
How silly an old rogue was, in a lovely morning.