My mojo is apparently at the coast on the beach under an umbrella, sipping a fruity drink with a paper umbrella. And probably just had a lunch of fresh oysters chased by a plastic cup of draft.
I get points for composition, but fail on execution on this one. And here's the thing: it's the best of the lot from July 4.
Cotton never lets me photograph her straight on. Once she sees the camera, she walks toward me. Tonight in a rare fit of cooperativeness, she obligingly looked at my left hand as directed. Too bad I didn't get the focus sharp on the eyes. Or anywhere else for that matter.
Try, try again.