Friday Ramble, Earth and Sky and Lake Together

The water is still, and trees along the far shore are cloaked in drifting fog that billows and swirls as though stirred by a vast, benign, and blessing hand. Earth and water are warmer than the air, and the meeting of the three elements spins a pearly veil over everything in sight. Sunlight or autumn rain - either will disperse the fog, but there is rain in the cards, and clouds are already moving in. It is rain that will lift the veil this morning.

There has not yet been frost, but it probably won't be long. Thanks to longer, chilly nights and the scouring north wind, the countryside is morphing into its early winter configuration. There is still a wealth of color in the eastern Ontario highlands, but here and there, trees are bare on their slopes, and fallen leaves lie ankle deep in the woods. Just out of sight in this photo, an old hawthorn has lost its leaves entirely, wearing only a few frosted berries and a brigade of wicked thorns.

Also unseen is the scribe in wellies and warm jacket, carrying her blackthorn walking stick, a camera, lenses, pen and field notebook. Her collar is turned up against the wind, and she is wearing gloves. In one of her pockets is a flask of Darjeeling tea, and in another, water and biscuits for her cherished companion, Beau. She can't wander as far as she used to, but wander she does by golly, every chance she gets.

Caught up in the fey ambiance of the scene before her, she breathes in the magic of morning sunlight filtering through lacy golden tamaracks on the other side of the lake and radiating through the fog to cast voluminous shadows on the water. She was feeling lost when she got here, and in truth, she is still feeling a little lost, but paradoxically, she is also feeling at home. Emaho.