The beaver pond is still and smooth, the gnarled cedars along the farther shore nebulous and cloaked in drifting fog that swirls as though stirred by a vast, benign and blessing hand.
Earth and water are warmer than the air this morning, and the serendipity coming together of the three elements spins a pearly veil over everything in sight. Sunlight or autumn rain - either will disperse the fog, but there is heavy rain in the cards for this day, and most likely it will be rain that lifts the veil.
In what seems like only a few breaths, the countryside has morphed into its early winter configuration, trees bare and somewhat mournful on their slopes, fallen leaves ankle deep in the woods and stark windblown fields arrayed in grey and taupe. The hawthorn by the pond has lost its leaves entirely and wears only a few frost touched berries.
Just out of sight is the artist in her wellies and oilskins, carrying (as usual) cameras, lenses and filters, brush, pen and field notebook. Entranced as she is by the magical ambiance at this early hour, she is thinking that it would be even more so with a single beam of sunlight coming through the trees beyond the pond and shining through the fog to generate voluminous shadows in three fey dimensions.
She was a feeling a little lost when she got here, and in truth, she is still feeling lost, but paradoxically, she is also home.
10 comments:
So beautiful! Reading your words and looking at your picture, I felt like I was right there beside you.
And, in spirit, I am.
Hoping you feel less lost very soon, my love. . . .
as we age our feel of life changes, morphs as it were. often i am mind boggled and wondering why...about everything. i feel shut out of my emotions. everything just is, as i move robot like, along a path someone chose for me.
after awhile i wander back into the fluid living of life.
imagine all those who love you walk hand in hand with you.......((hugs))
Hi Cate
What a lovely scene, I really enjoy these foggy days.
Guy
Beautiful scene, beautiful words! Do you have beavers who actually live on this pond or did you just name it so?
I think the fog sometimes brings out the melancholy in us or perhaps it's the knowledge of the cold, dark, wintery months to come as we gaze out at a late fall landscape.
Oh yes, there are beavers, many beavers...
Ahh - feeling lost but at home. I know that feeling too. Maybe that is the human sojourn - waiting for the lifting of the veil... You have a lovely band of sojourners along with you on your expotitions :)
The exquisite use of words paints a picture that a painter cannot manage. How can a painter give the "single beam of sunlight coming through the trees" when the single beam is not there. In this particular piece, we are given a glimpse of what is not there. Masterful craft!
I agree with Mystical Meandering that feeling a little lost is the human sojourn or the human condition. Coming to identify that one is at home with the feeling of being a little lost is truly a masterful moment in the event of life on this human plane.
Your images are thoughtful and truly beautiful. I'm glad I found you!
Oh, is there any chance of getting a photo of one of them or their dam across the pond?? I love beavers and oh so lucky you to have them living so nearby!!
Oh, is there any chance of getting a photo of one of them or their dam across the pond?? I love beavers and oh so lucky you to have them living so nearby!!
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