![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9e8i2HscP6SDYON_7_1g45XtYdjow4dWZjsAyGvkyBmivMch5LVl6zqbHSlRgZlVbOIyw8LPdyN4UzcNfbddtmJ8P9_eOSnWQTcKnj-w__WC73kqC2FXP1c5AIovYnuzdBOzh_Fe09E/s200/bridge.gif)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mRp5FgoOtDFm0ryVcIgQH7ES6gz48AXIfuvjEdb4bjw1LjcNE67f69fmW8f0gZkBnaexm0FCWybe4seikGiq8XHPgKKDFenStziklRaEjHlgFP_ZfeJad4W2fVTGi0RihR4w1H9Bbxk/s200/lion2.gif)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5RdqltaMUC28FFK-M1qeTIRwbTL56ee2TBT-uUDxJzHc_I7JHoweV2m3vbjLcGWfG3uhlj9s1yjtNigMFxmvhLpcMbZFOV-ATBQHp75jhtykD82e0KrmQoE2ibw5zpPhe0WqvQjdMvu0/s200/lion3.gif)
Unfortunately, the ideas were slow in coming as it was almost as cold at the bridge as it was in the village. My frozen brain couldn't process any thoughts other than trying to feel my feet. To our embarassment, the most we could do was cross the bridge, each pick our own favorite lion,
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVx0__oZ1HnWJ-3CDy9z7cCz08NT8IIN2Chd1nhc5iAzwrGoDmoYYsykTG_wKzN3d5kUwd0hGnMU8IB8sF4ISIMgJd_2oy6sQui7mNdRkltzyMKVY30YwyQwrajdCcWfg23t0tDqExKUE/s200/lion.gif)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcm73iCioKGaqQ5Ssn6hc3l9tXWjnQnr_bExYwAaymNCOlXGr0l019h6-Y98gOlBVulNLP_LSIh1iot__pt0_Q60d1FxLo2rqfHzEbX6qJnc3ygtzV-oCFcJJwNQxObBIxbU9BaDLAycY/s200/lion1.gif)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSatFrho737aapFHKZ-iTCz0I5gy_8y_GPWxoFBp5piJo6niV0wYWYrf4qEfd-LtFo1IvB_VXKiK7fY7Pbpnuv-DpNgYGdEmHMHfgYYkIOmu7zXElAYlq1F6YWN8AhTSyPILjbPPS-ws/s200/lion_al.gif)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jfVnf-l8WGDCnBNN7Jzux8At9uGEiHRVPtTbNNhhjRt3v3u6KA80Ae55UVPDdj68DO6Zfe2l0SE8jdJwYK7NugL6fdU83HAfcE6qY84QVslP8H8ojzfKL1qIoifliiU3KMKCdgOCzdE/s200/lion_jen.gif)
and run back. See us shiver? Cold is not conducive for creative thinking, at least not for me.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKJoM8MJDjiXjGuUw-XRl56tcJ7ydaG5WrlQVK_4nmEKvYUDe9fB8VaHeNpKYAp5ZUN2uvMdh_k60St2SfIib0fQc4H0yzNncuFmZkbUEIeyptjPegDH3eaXU3FBCXkvhwMc3tuCYt8Vo/s200/all.gif)
But all was not lost. As we scurried back over the bridge to the warmth of the bus, three children began playing with balloons on the bridge. Somehow, I had the sense to photograph them and when I look at them, they seem to be straight out of a picturebook. Perhaps, I have the inspiration right here...
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAeqF3-XV2Zny4euQhn6JgMQInni7-tHn3lFSSV9kejMzMaSlm0CRhUckq4vHWgjfIE8rcV-jb9muXrobxEX6VoAbiRhUG8vBJAyC1-LAkErjJRJdzi0COaC0H46z6FKKW8ouRqO5XVW4/s200/kids_balloons.gif)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_I_ddH65u8noI9y0tGrAJ0odjA3MJcL23VFeiyoD9RjZBOcxZPuEaMivBt_Lv2PpjO336AUMhXNLBdSO28KvR_SGLiPnA76YwuZZRcfc0Koreg6VSTtK0stF7-_FJq0sZNaRaNCoYBM/s200/inspiration.gif)
I just needed to wait for my brain to thaw out, first.
1 comment:
Your muse hired those children for you and gave them balloons. Don't you love it when that happens?
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