One of the photos the artist/photographer/scribe (perhaps she IS one of those things after all) will come back to over and over again in the coming months when cold winds blow though her favorite valleys and snow lies deep on the highlands...
The river is cold and deep and blue and intense, and it wears a skim of ice here and there. The nearby trees are bare for the most part, but the tamaracks (larches) on the far shore are still wearing their early winter golds and rusts, and it will be a few weeks before they too are shorn of their vibrant foliage by the north wind. The scene before her eyes shimmers, and it is simply breathtaking.
It is the combination of the golden trees and the blue river that calls her here, their natural and seemingly artless fusion into a harmonious painterly whole. She stands on the shore for some time just watching the colors and the ripples, nary a worry or a rambling thought on her mind, content just to be there and resting easy in the moment.
Before leaving, she snaps a image or three, and it is only on arriving home much later that she realizes she has done the unthinkable and taken a picture of herself too.
4 comments:
I think sometimes, the photo surprises, are the best.
A mysterious river, reflections, a mysterious worshiper at rivers edge.
Very nice.
I almost thought it was a painting of a First Nations woman because of the dark ripples around your head look like long, dark braids...do you see it? Perhaps that is you in another life!
Beautiful photo!
Good heavens - I do look as though I have braids (although I do not). Cool....
:)Perhaps you were Pocahantas in a previous life!! :)
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