If it wasn’t enough that my streamside perch was on the slidey side of iffy, I peripherally noticed a real photographer - telescoping tripod, massive lens, equipment bag - catty corner across the creek, and seemingly with lens pointed at me. This concerned me, not because I'm shy, but rather due to my very unladylike crouch - in a skirt, albeit with shorts attached beneath. But none else would know about the shorts, now would they? So, as trained by my modest mother, I self-consciously readjusted to a more modest sideways pose, knees together - and successfully managed not to land, rump-over-tea-kettle, in the creek.
Thankfully, the delight of these cunning candy-blue petites quickly distracted back to the task at hand, and I emerged with this happy shot.