Lone walker on the lake

A shot from the lake shortly before I left Michigan.

I had thought all these shots got lost from my card; I was so delighted to find it was hiding out somewhere in the recesses.

Laura and I took Mancho out to Point Isabel today. It wasn't quite as stunning as usual given the overcast weather and the narrow path flanked by a chain-link fence protecting the newly seeded grass on one side and the caution tape preventing access to the polluted water on the other, due to the recent oil spill. It was the regular dog-fest, though, and we were particularly struck by a trio of incredibly massive dogs that probably came up to our bustlines, or perhaps just our waists. But anyway, they were the kind of dogs that sort of take your breath away. Two were silver-gray, one was brown. I don't know my breeds well enough to say what they were.

We talked about going dancing at Cocomo tonight, and I was planning on joining Brian in The City first and meeting his girlfriend Alison and joining them for a learning with the Mission Minion, but I think I'm in for the night. I picked up a bit of a cold in the chaos of the end of the semester and the travel and debauchery here, and now I just need to rest to get over my sore throat.

Family readers, I have posted new Christmas photos on Flickr. If you don't have an account, it's free and easy to create one so you can view them. Just write me a note so I know who you are :)

Colorless green ideas sleep furiously

Still so very grey. The fog brings snow, then ice, then pure rain that melts away the ice from the lake's surface. And just this weekend, I saw the little kiddies out there playing hockey on the ice. And wondered at the daring of their parents, to let them out there so shortly after the surface had hardened.

I have to search to find color in the surroundings, when the lovely birds have finished pecking at the trees outside my living room windows. But there is beauty all around, and with a little patience, I see the colors through the gray.

another snowfall . . .

But all we can confess of what we are
Has in it the defeat of isolation--
If not our own, then someone's, anyway.
-- Adrienne Rich, Stepping Backward

I am overwhelmed sometimes by the beauty of the world around me.

And there are days, like today, when I am reminded of the meaning and purpose of my presence here. And these times, I feel so very much gratitude for everything and everyone that has contributed to my being right here, right now, in this moment, in this space. Even this landscape that I discover anew each day, so brand new to me, is one I see with lenses thick with memories, and everyone I have ever known is somehow here with me in this vision of the world, even as I experience isolation . . .

and it retreats again

ice spreads its wings across the surface at dawn