I run the risk of posting lots of pictures of sunsets and landscapes but there is something I am reminded of every time I stray out to the beach. First of all I am reminded of how beautiful it is and how easy it can be for me to neglect beauty when it is not plunked right in front of me. Perhaps it reminds me that the seasons don’t change quite as quickly as we presume they do. People are forever saying “well that’s it for summer, winter’s here,” believing the water too cold to get into now, not trusting the warm autumn sun that drapes everything in a golden light that you never get in the summer, or the winter. I passed miles of flaming deciduous trees, mostly hot oranges and really strong stubborn reds on the way to the water. But it was the beach I needed. The leaves need a slow walk along a country road to be appreciated, not a mad kaleidoscopal dash with finger tot he hutter though the windshield. So, amidst the colour, you have a very monochromatic scene. An for all of the heat of the day, the wind blew hard off the water, even the birds seem to tire of sitting on the air. The beach was empty more or less, a couple of bodies appearing intermittently, and a few sail boarders by the time I left.
And how does one turn ones back on this? You have to hope that the scene filled your spirit enough, as if the wind off the lake blew the horizon’s soul lifting elements right into you and filled you up, enough that you could almost make it to next time. The trouble is you never realize how much in need of a recharge you are, until you come back.