My uncle sails and sometimes races, and he told me once about an overnight run: about the peace of the moon on the water, the still quiet, the way the wind can run soft through the evening. He told me about bundling up to keep the chill off, but he said it's no use when the dawn comes, because with the dawn comes the dew, and "there's no escaping the dew."
That's because you can't ward off the dew like you can slack off rain with a slicker: the dew soaks surfaces without ever first passing through the sky. Tiny droplets, always present in their potential, that appear spontaneously when the right temperature and moment collide. Demanding your notice. Soaking you to the bone.
Posting this a little after dawn from the South Shore of Lake Tahoe. Sitting on a rickety old rustic porch, drinking strong coffee, where only a few regal Ponderossa and a couple of geese separate me from the shore. Was down there walking at the water's edge just a little while ago, bathed in the scent of the pine woods.
Redolent. Constant.
1 comment:
very nice.
in contrast, a magpie sat on my 9th story window sill this morning and squawked at me until I got out of bed.
dew sounds much more relaxing, if cold
great flower shots by the way
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