This morning’s walk at White Rock Lake entailed a photographic experiment for me.  With clear skies and bright sunlight, I decided to put the UV and polarization filters on the camera for the entire walk.  Albeit a few images taken in partly to mostly shadowed environments would have been well served without them, mostly the experiment succeeded in teaching me more about these two filters, how to use them together, and what conditions do and don’t warrant them.

While tinkering with the camera before I left, however, I regrettably switched the ISO control back to automatic.  Many photos which otherwise would have been spectacular have been rendered useless because too high an ISO setting resulted in significant image noise.  Some of those will still work when reduced in size, but many had to be deleted.

I’m angry at myself.

I began the day continuing my image migration to Flickr for those posts impacted by this latest Zooomr snafu.  After uploading almost 40 pictures and editing the appropriate posts, I realized I still had to process another 162 photographs and edit another 50 entries.  And all because Zooomr fouled up the latest migration, the same thing they did with the Mark III upgrade six months ago which resulted in an utter disaster followed by a continuing fiasco of broken or missing functionality.

I’m angry at Zooomr.

Chris Clarke has posted some heartfelt and emotionally tumultuous reminiscences about Zeke, his dog who died a year ago.  His beautiful letters remind me of those who have come before, those who have been lost to time, those like Derek and Henry…and a great many others.

I’m angry at death.

I wished nothing more than to make reality by now my move from urban Dallas to rural East Texas, nearer the family farm, surrounded by nature and the pastoral life that beckons to me, far away from city dwelling which now vexes me to the core.  Yet I am only a few steps closer to that relocation because of tighter finances, a shriveling economy that has limited greatly the jobs available, and a crippling lack of minutes for even life’s necessities, let alone wants.

I’m angry at time.

Dreamdarkers has languished in near limbo for months for too tight a work schedule that steals more than it gives.  Setting aside that it pays the bills, more and more this company demands sacrifice after sacrifice while offering nothing in return.  I see people working five or six hours per day on a regular basis, people who undoubtedly make the same or more money as I do, and I wonder how they can do so little while I do so much—all while betraying that which matters to me most.

I’m angry at my job.

I saw an article recently that a major salmon line has collapsed to utter nonexistence.  Numbering only a tiny fraction of what they were last year, let alone a few years ago, and with the number of young at only 5% of what they should be from year to year, king salmon appear to be the latest casualty of overfishing, pollution, diversion of fresh water, and climate change.  To put that list more succinctly, this species has been pushed to the brink of extinction over the course of five years by one thing: people.

I’m angry at humanity.

al-Zill has camped on my patio for the last week.  I finally put a cat carrier on the patio, including a towel inside it, so he’d have a place to sleep and rest away from the unrelenting wind and chilly temperatures of late.  In turn, he’s become my best friend, greeting me almost every time I go outside, crying to me with that raspy voice of his that sounds more like a weeping child than a feline, rubbing against my legs with a wrenching consistency, and otherwise becoming a family member by proxy.  I can’t adopt him, at least not now, and I couldn’t even care for him if something happened.  And it did, for I’ve attempted to care for a major wound on his head which appeared a few weeks ago.  He’s left blood on the towel…if that tells you anything.  I give him food and water, and as much affection as I can, yet my very being tells me I must do more.

I’m angry at my heart.

Our economy has tanked while politicians spend millions on campaigns and billions on unjust wars.  More and more people are jobless, too many die from hunger or disease or violence or any number of anthropogenic means, yet the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, patricians gain more control while plebeians suffer increasing torment, and all the while our elected officials look the other way because the whole process brings them their thirty pieces of silver.

I’m angry at the U.S. government.

Truth be told, I could go on ad nauseam, for every direction I look provides yet another target for my wrath.  The world is going to hell in a handbasket, the environment is falling apart around us, life in all its forms is being pushed to the brink of extinction, litter clogs the streets and creeks, pollution colors the air strange hues of unnatural, ailments never before seen pop up around the globe, the power pendulum continually swings further in favor of those already in power—and those with money, what should be done gets ignored for what must be done to survive day to day, and all the while I suffer in a putrid pool of ire.

I need a stiff drink…