Like Baseballs Flying Off Your Bat.

Analogies don't abound for the resounding thrum in a paternal chest for the simple pleasure of taking pictures like this in your own kitchen.
I didn't know enough to really savor that feeling of solid contact in peewee baseball, or the delicious feeling of creek water and sand beneath summerhot feet, or a cool breeze ahead of the thunderstorm when the last bales of hay are going on the elevator up into the mow.
But with age comes the wisdom of relishing these sensations.
So I take and look at pictures of these ladies often.