Over 200 photos. That was my tally of digital shots for the five days we were in Colorado. Over 90 megs. And only one set of batteries.

Delightful little camera.

So, between the DVD expanded version ("Director's cut") of The Fellowship of the Ring and the crew commentary on the same film (I have never watched a film commentary before, but apparently they are common on DVD releases. Most presumably have the cast members discussing their personal experiences during the making of the film, along with the apparently obligatory compliments about their director, producers, and fellow actors. This one instead is largely a bunch of college-aged young men (the four Hobbits and Orlando) raving on about the good time they had making this film, and the fun stunts they pulled. Worth the watch if you get the chance.), I managed to edit and crop over 120 photos yesterday for later distribution back to family members. Fun, enjoyable (I love cropping), but also tedious.

One photo I was particularly pleased with. On Christmas Day, people were gathering around to say their goodbyes to a niece and nephew who were heading back to the prairie, not too far from Jo.

Except my wife, who was sitting peacefully on the living room couch, holding the Boston terrier to keep her from getting into one last fight with the departing pug. She was dressed in one of her bright red holiday tops (the wife, not the Boston), with a rather blissful look of sated holiday cheer.

With the contrast of the orca-coloured dog on her lap, it was a perfect pose.

And I got it. No problems with lighting or focus. To prep the photo for electronic sharing, all I had to do was crop the sides a little, and shrink the size.

It was only when I was done, looking at the finished product, that I noticed.

There, just over the wife's left shoulder.

A Swaztika.

Not some reflected Native American symbol, this was a Nazi Swaztika. In a white circle, on the binding of a red book in the shelves alongside the mantle.

One of my father's World War II histories.

No, he's not a neo-Nazi. Not even close. Nor a Nazi memorabilia collector, which I wonder sometimes if that isn't the same thing. Just a history of the European theater of the War. Which some author or publisher thought would be more marketable with that hated symbol on the side.

So, what to do?

Keep the symbol of fascism, racism and genocide in an otherwise perfect Christmas photo? A photo representative of the day dedicated to the birth of the Prince of Peace?

Okay, so it's a minor thing. Most would not notice. Ever.

But I knew it was there. And would see it every time I looked at that photo of my beautiful wife, on this Christmas Day of 2002.

Thank goodness for digital edit features of some software. I felt like a European after the last Great War, tearing the despised symbols down from buildings and walls.

It's just a red book with a white circle, now.