Friday, May 1, 2009


This morning was gray and misty, but still that has its own beauty. I find these mornings are where I appreciate the most that I'm part of a lake community. The houses and the scenery all have meaning, we've lived here for 16 years. I look at the lake I picture my son and his friends out there in their canoe. I see my daughter as a little girl playing on the swings in the lakeside park. I note the dock that we raised money for when I was part of the elementary school pta. It goes on and on.

In the gray mist, you can picture the way this was when there were just Native Americans here. Or in that first shot I've posted, I picture the hotel that used to be on that bank when this was a vacation spot. All those memories -- pentimenti -- are more prominent when it's gray and mysterious. It's a mysterious beauty, a thinking beauty, rather than the bold-take-your-breath away beauty of a bright sunny morning.

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