Have you ever walked the shoreline filling your pockets with shells, bits of shell and rocks, marveling at how beautiful each one is– each one more amazing in its subtlety of colors than the last only to get home, dump them all out onto the kitchen counter to see they aren’t so very special after all? In fact, rather gray, rather plain, rather less than extraordinary?
Me, too. And I always wonder what happens. Is it just the sunlight and water on their surfaces or is there something more at work?
Today was like that for me except instead of shells and stones, I was dumping out photos onto my laptop and the gap between the deep beauty of what I saw in the woods this morning– the discovery of orange, the velvety green, the fragile leaf— it all seemed so dull and listless back here.
They don’t seem to capture how gray and misty it was or how the chill air felt so good as we hiked up hills, or how fun it was to get a bit lost for awhile and wonder if it would take hours to find my car again.
But it was all that and more. We were in a new locale for the first time and the dogs responded with high excitement.
Seriously– is this not dogface rock?
May your weekend be velvety green and surprised with orange.