A single lamp lit the great room...darkness shrouding the house. During morning prayers, the shadows had parted...opening to grey/blue skies accented with pink...fog rising from the water.Earthbound clouds shift and move with each breath. To stand watch over their dance is to remember the fluidity and fragility of life. If I walk away for even a moment, I risk missing some miraculous, momentary formation.
In the summer the lake is a cool respite from scorching Southern heat...busy with boats, parties on docks, children squealing with delight. Fall brings cold feet on the deck, rose-breasted grosbeaks at the feeder, and the dance of the morning fog. Namaste
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