Here are a few more Saturday photos, because Saturday was technically perfect. Also, because they are memories and good photos and sometimes bad photos and sometimes those bad photos are the best memories. The best memories for me, anyway, he told himself, because that little blur is evocative of how memories can get sometime.

Not that Saturday is blurry, but one day it will be. Well, not last Saturday, because it was wonderful and unique and technically perfect. But, in general, some memories turn out a bit like this around the edges:

Cell phones are useful like that. They fit in my jersey pocket and you can take a picture riding down the road with the flick of a finger and the squeeze of a thumb, all while you carefully watch the area in front of you. But they don’t give you the best picture all of the time. I can’t imagine, of course, doing all the things required to get that picture — blurry or clear! — with a DSLR. So it’s useful, much like a bokeh lens. Inferior quality glass became art after it moved from Eastern Europe to the west.

I have a bokeh lens. I should break that out soon. So watch for those.

They teach you, in photography class, about how lines are good. They direct the eye. They mark action and movement. And, of course, I like repetition in photos. (I don’t know if anyone else has noticed that, but I picked up on it some years ago. I’m bemused that I only really see it in the finished photos, but I’m not nearly so aware of my tastes for that when I’m composing the picture.)

So, anyway, here are some lines in a photo, directing the eye, implying movement, in this case, we’re going deeper into the photo. In my case, I was, on my bicycle.

I took a selfie. Because they’ll also tell you, in photography class, that things like signs are boring. But if there’s some activity, some person or people, that helps.

If it’s a tunnel, it’s photographically perfect. OK, it’s not photographically perfect. I wasn’t thinking about the Fibonacci spiral, which you might also learn about in a photography class, when I took that picture. So there’s that. Without thinking about it, I technically filled the negative space, which is technically imperfect. Which is, technically, perfect.

This month will be totally better, don’t you agree?

Here are some roadside flowers I found.

I was standing on the side of the road for the same reason that every guy does, so they can take a picture of their wife as they ride by on their bicycle. You saw that photo yesterday. But what you didn’t see was all of the cars that went by wondering what I was doing on the side of the road.

Do people still think like that? Probably not. Everyone here is very particular about studiously avoiding interacting with others. In the car that’s easiest done, of course, by people staring at their phone while driving.

One of those sorts of drivers almost flattened me at a stop sign today. I looked at him and said, “OK, Boomer.”

We saw this car this weekend. Not sure if the driver was on the phone, but at least that’s a self-aware car owner.

Unless they’re un-self-aware. Maybe their friends or family members are putting stickers on the back of the car and the owner hasn’t caught on. I check my tires every so often, but, really: How often do you examine your vehicle for rogue stickers, anyway?