The variations in the weather today have captivated me. From this morning's thunderstorm and heavy downpours to the quieter moments of sunlight bursting through and highlighting the berried arbutus and the freshly renewed grass after the summer's baking heat, it has all been wonderful. From one moment to the next we've been witnessing the rapidly shifting moods of weather and variations in light.
The photo (from this afternoon, after yet another thunder shower) shows something of the magnificence of the display, and the turbulence of the air as the weather moves through.
The sun is setting far earlier than in the warmer days of summer. Autumn is truly upon us which made our rowing expedition particularly sweet the other day, the last sunny day of the recent stretch of spectacular weather. The reflections on the water, the light and shadow, the ringed pattern of the drips from the oars, and the darkness of the shore as the sun dropped behind the cedars— all perfectly lovely.
Heading homeward offered this glimpse of peace and safe harbour, with the assurance of a warm fireside, and hot supper...and 'thawing' my very cold bare feet.
Yesterday afternoon's dog walk we ended up back at the beach. The water was completely still— so unusual. And a very thin mist, not quite fog, hung over the Strait. It looked so much like sea and sky melted into each other as though there was no horizon at all. Or just barely so. I can actually see it, and also a ferry approaching the Pass. Its almost obscured, but not quite.
What I love about this scene is the range of blues, from pale, soft, through a rich royal blue, and into the deep indigo in the foreground.
And I love the suggestion of there not being a horizon at all... which is true. Once you get there, its still just as far away...
glimpses of the extraordinary amidst an ordinary day