Monday, April 19, 2010

Magical Morning Meanderings

It was one of those magical mornings that I doubt even the most skilled photographer could capture with the lens. The water was still, the images of objects above echoed in its glassy surface. The sun struggled to show itself through the light cloud covering, spilling pots of golden paint across the water. The tints and tones and shadows changed at every glance, the world seen through a kaleidoscope. The air itself was golden-hued and magical.

In the bay, a seal floats and dives and swims. I soon see what has attracted him – a school of shimmering fingerlings are literally dancing on their tails across the surface of the water. The voices of crab fishermen preparing their boat startles the seal and he heads out for deeper waters, allowing the gulls their chance to swoop in for a tasty fish breakfast.

Again I marvel at the many varieties of seabirds, the many colours they add to the morning’s palette – blacks and whites, grays and greens, reddish brown and chocolate brown and teal blue dive in and out of water, up and down through air.

Charley and Oliver stand patiently as I snap picture after picture. Every gaze at the horizon sees a new scene, another one too beautiful not to immortalize with the camera.

We stay an hour – sitting on logs, wandering the shoreline, resting against the rails of the seawalk. At first, we have the beach entirely to ourselves. Slowly the town awakens and joggers emerge, the rhythmic slap slap slap of sneakers on boardwalk providing musical score to nature’s production. Fellow dogwalkers stop to chat, each speaking softly, respectful of nature's awakening. Eventually the gold turns to silver, then to grey and blue, and the dogs and I head home.

I am disappointed with the photos today – the hills seem blurred, the colours less vivid, less golden, the birds less present. There are, I muse, some magical mornings that the camera cannot catch. They are held only in the mind’s eye and not transferred to the camera’s lens. These mornings, my friends, you will just have to experience for yourself. Come visit. Paradise awaits.


EvenSong said...

Ah, but the muted-ness is related to the fog and overcast. It *is* hard to photograph an experience!

Alphamutt said...

I'm not sure why you are disappointed, Jean. The photos are breathtaking. You captured the mood perfectly. I think the pics are lovely.

Anonymous said...

I was watching the sunrise from my window. The thought popped into my head "I bet Jean is on the beach taking pictures" and I'm so glad you where. They are beautiful.


Black Jack's Carol said...

The far away dock, over still water, is beautiful, Jean, but I know that feeling of disappointment. Sometimes, I think the LCD screen lies:) Although your shots didn't give the entire picture, they will bring it back to you when you look at them.