There’s no telling where we’ll end up when we go out for a drive. We may set off in a particular direction but then we go where the spirit takes us.
June 29th it was Lake Cossayuna.
Earlier, we had found Carter’s Pond and Grant had remarked that being close to a body of water is always calming.
It is said that it’s because our bodies consist largely of water.
But what of a storm-tossed sea?
For many years I lived just a block from the Atlantic and I had been within sight of a sea at two of my boarding schools. Practically on the beach once.
At night I would lie listening to the waves rolling in to shore.
Whatever the weather, the sound drew me out of myself.
Be it a gentle lapping of waves edging slowly up the sand, or breakers tumbling hard upon the beach, it captured my spirit.
Never a strong swimmer, I disliked being in salt water and was hopeless at snorkeling (sadly).
Aboard ship, I could cope with rough weather but when the ship wallowed in a swell, I would turn green.
Yet I loved being out at sea.
The slop, slop of waves against the bow.
A bracing wind in my face.
The ship’s wake trailing out behind us.
The pitch darkness of night, no land in view.
The ships that gave me passage were very small, so one was not troubled by human noise.
It has been very many years since I “went to sea”.
Three of the five ships I knew and loved subsequently sank in different oceans.
Sometimes I picture the water-logged cabins, some infinitesimal part of myself within.
Memories. Happy, mostly, but many sad.
A jetty at Lake Cossayuna reminded me of another that featured in the daily life of a young school girl.
No longer close to a large body of water, it is the sky which now inspires me.
As you probably realise!
June 29th started out cloudless, then as the morning progressed it became a tableau.
Each time we emerged from a tunnel of trees, a new brush stroke had been added.
Corn is taking over where snow left off.
The Green mountains came into view.
Not the Rockies, but pleasing none-the-less.
Mr Katz was criticized for writing about our “big sky”.
The “Big Sky State” is certainly stunning but I’ve never been more aware of the sky than here. (Yes, I have been to Montana.)
Or the light and how it defines a particular surface.
By now it was late morning and the clouds were building
As we changed direction, the western sky appeared.
Though big clouds still hung in the east.
Approaching home, we diverted over the Rexleigh Bridge
This one is quite small, crossing the Battenkill River.
East meets West above Route 22.
No put-put cars or bumble-butt’s for Grant to moan about that day!
Then a ghastly thing happened.
For the first time…my camera’s battery ran out of spark!
We were nearly home anyway.
For the rest of the day, I watched the sky morph
As I went to catch one last shot, I saw a flash of red down in the field.