Coming Clean about My Addiction

I think I might have a problem. An addiction. Maybe even a sickness.

Last weekend, I took my two sons to lovely Camp Collum in Frankfort, Indiana. It's a beautiful place to camp, with lots of woods and paths, playgrounds, fire rings, a building for large gatherings, available showers, and even, in the middle of a large, open, wild-grown field, a smallish observatory. It really is a great place.



So we're there along with maybe two dozen Cub Scouts and bits and pieces of their families, having a great time. And for once, I remembered to bring my camera.

So what is the first thing I take a picture of while I'm out in beautiful nature? This:

That's right. The first picture I shot was of a sign with a spelling error on it.The first thing that caught my eye that I wanted to capture for the future was "Fundraisor," which sounds like a well-meaning but otherwise ineffectual Transformer.

So you see my problem. Errors are everywhere, and I see them. I can't not see them. I suppose that's what makes me a good copy editor, but it's also what can drive me mad.

And when I see them, I must have them. It's an addiction.

The weekend wasn't all about errors, fortunately. I did snap a few other candid shots of naked Mother Nature, like this berry bush that looks like it's straight out of The Hunger Games. (A photographer I'm not.)

But the spelling error at hole 2 on the frisbee golf course is what sticks with me. It's what I'll remember about the weekend.

[Updated 10/13/11 to correct the spelling of Frankfort and to add a link to Camp Collum.]