Scribbler

By scribbler

Rejoice, for the lost is found

View from the sacristy, St. Mary's Cathedral
The blotch of red is a lone remainder of the many Christmas poinsettias.

I went to the sacristy to retrieve my lost iPhone, which I'd lost in the cathedral last night. My whole life, on my phone—mail, banking, medical, literary (my novel!), friends, credit cards, meditations, yoga, dictionary, encyclopedia, daily scripture readings, entertainment, library records & books, camera, photos, even my alarm clock! 

And, of course, my phone. So I couldn't call for help or information. What a nightmare.

Apple is very smart about lost phones. As soon as I told Find My Phone that it was lost, it locked all my apps and canceled Apple Pay and credit cards. And as soon as I logged in with my password and fingerprint, it undid all the protections it had put in place. 

Still, I don't like relying on a pocket-sized device that can so easily go missing.

I'm thinking about giving up my phone for Lent, but I can't think how I'd do without it. For one thing, no camera, so no blips!

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Extra: A murder of crows. 
It was drizzling, so the swooping patterns that caught my eye were gone as the birds settled quickly into the treetops before I could capture their flight. I waited in the rain and managed to catch one crow still on the wing.

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