Twelve. That's how many weekends you get in a summer. Only twelve. For nine solid months you wait to live out your measly twenty-four days of twenty-four hours apiece. Eight hours of each of those days you'll probably sleep through. And then, as quickly as they arrived, they're gone. Wow—the summer is even shorter than I thought! People might call me crazy for getting up at 3:45 on a summer morning just to take pictures. Given how little truly personal time I have, I think I'd have to be crazy not to.