Photograph: Late afternoon on Country Club Pond

I never tire of this scene -- the shallow end of Country Club Pond viewed from the dam.  The afternoon I made this photograph the sun was lowering rather fast and the clouds were dramatic.  I like the whitness of the winter-time tree trunks.

A mere four degrees

We enjoyed our third day of rain.  Averaging a inch a day.  Late this afternoon we ventured out for a walk on the promenade to find the path along the pond pretty nearly under water. 

In addition to the precipiation the temperature was stuck on fairly miserable, the low over night having been 42 degrees and the high only 46.  Spring seems to be hiding from us.

Whitby, looking back, seems to be saying that it's OK for us to proceed
on the narrowed promenade.

 

A day of the unexpected

I was to have dusted and run the vacuum today.  But, life -- plain life -- stepped into my path, and I spent a large portion of the day in a big, comfortable chair by the fireplace.  What did I accomplish?  Here's a partial list:

• Finished both the crossword puzzle and the sudoku in the newspaper.  In their entirety, I might add. 
• Read a book on macro photography.  Oh, how long it's been on the shelf by my desk.  True it has some interesting copy editing problems, but I learned some pretty good stuff -- evidence to follow. 
• Took a walk with Tal, Whitby and Belle, our daily stroll on the promenade.  Crisp and breezy and clear.
• Disproved (at least for today) that pesky get-all-your-work-done-before-you-play rule.  Or, to say it another way, managed not to enforce on myself that particular well-learned rule (at least for today).  Does it bother me that the dust is waiting oh so patiently for me?  Only a little.

The year is a week old, today a satisfying end -- and beginning.  The day, and the week, came to a beautiful conclusion.  I was a moment late in catching sight of the sunset and the pond from our bedroom window.  The photograph is a dark and "noisy," but it does convey some of the scene's drama and allure and may help me remember what a nice day it's been.

"Welcome, happy morning!"

Thus begins an ancient Easter hymn. A hymn, by the way, not much liked by most choirs I've known over the years. My suspicion is that the dislike is more for Arthur Seymour Sullivan's Fortunatus tune than Venantius Honorius Fortunatus' poetry. Check it out in "The Hymnal 1982" (Church Publishing, NY, hymn #179).

What a happy morning. We woke early, the day dawning as we watched. Day-by-day we are filled with wonder at the sight we see and, often, I say or think to myself that I should document the view. Today, before making the bed even, I did just that -- a process requiring raising the window and removing the screen. No wonder I didn't do it before ...

But, it was worth the effort. The native azalea in the foreground in all its glory, the sun streaming in from the right and the still-bare trees across the pond reflected on the surface of the water. Can you hear my happy sigh?

Flirtatious spring

Spring has been on the coy side this year, warm and cool temperatures alternating rather energetically. Yesterday afternoon Tal and I enjoyed a slow walk along the Willowbank side of Country Club Pond and in the yard. It was such a pretty day, even with the wind giving the new foliage a thrashing. I was glad simply to be walking around casually trying to freeze the action in a few photographs, unlike the golfers in a high profile, high stakes final round at The Augusta National a few dozen miles to our west.

Tal had done the mowing and edging around the house Thursday afternoon in anticipation of our house guests' arrival and yesterday it was at that just right place, the edges soft. There is quite a bit in bloom, the native azaleas demanding the eye's attention. We are making a habit of drinking them in each day, knowing how soon they will be finished. That said, we are missing the show of the southern azaleas almost all together, but the sudden freeze a few weeks ago left most of the buds damaged, giving us next year's bloom to anticipate.