Today started out with pure joy, but quickly devolved into frustration. It was one of those days where I was doing everything right, but nothing was going right. I didn’t feel much like going out and doing anything, but I finally decided to go down to the lake and take a few shots. That turned out to be exactly the right thing to do. Although I didn’t see any alligators, or even any anhingas, being down by the lake brought that instant feeling of calm that I love. It was enough to make me feel fortunate, even if I still haven’t found my dream job, because every day, any time I want to, I can walk down to this lake and enjoy a small moment of peace.
Tonight, the wind was blowing a little, almost as if a storm might be blowing in. Mostly it was a fairly steady breeze, but every once in a while, it would blow stronger, gusting through the Spanish moss and blowing the limbs of trees back away from the water.
The water was ruffled by the wind, so the usual reflections just weren’t there. But the way it caught the light reminded me of summer mornings when I would awaken to the sun glinting off Grandma’s bay. The water broke the light and shone like jewels.
Every once in a while I’ve tossed around the phrase “the color of light.” Usually I say it when I’m presenting a spectacular sunset, clouds tinged with red or orange or purple, but really, when I was learning about the color of light, it was all about showing it in ways that weren’t quite so obvious. This evening, the trees were lit by early evening light, which lent them a wonderful golden glow. I love the way the trunks of the trees look almost yellow in this light.
After a while, I decided to wander down the trail near the lake and see what I could see. While the light was absolutely fantastic, unfortunately, I felt more than I saw once I got on the trail. There is no amount of Off in the world that will keep the mosquitoes from attacking me if they are anywhere around. I laugh when I hear of people with two or three mosquito bites, because I have at least that in the middle of a dry January. As long as I was on the lake tonight, with the wind blowing, I didn’t have much trouble with them, but as soon as I headed down the trail, I was bombarded by them.
Fortunately, I was not far down the trail when I saw a hawk alight in a tree very close to where I was. I walked as quietly as I could to where he was, and caught him, looking down on me as if I would make a tasty morsel. He let me get this shot, then flew off again. Good thing for me, or I would be nothing but a mosquito dinner by now.