Celandine of Shadow
Nov. 9th, 2023 10:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoIt was a sunny day and we had no obligations until a Zoom at 7:30, so we abandoned all normal activities and drove out to the lake. It was cold and very windy. Luckily we've been around enough to know that you can't bring too many warm clothes. I wore a sweater with my jacket on top, and brought my hat and scarf (though I only wanted them for a few minutes of our walk, and then I was warm enough). We stopped at the bookstore by the lake to get sandwiches and coffee--and a copy of Emma haha. It's not really hard cover. It has those flexible covers, and they're PINK which I'm not sure I like. Also the type is still rather small. But it's definitely a cut above the cheap paperback I jettisoned. I look forward to reading it.
We drove forthwith to the park. Along the road we got glimpses of the water. It was an incredible, intense sort of aquamarine, intense blue with a hint of green in it, opaque yet full of light like a precious stone, and with the wave crests actually foaming over with white crests of spray. Very cool. We sat by the river for just a minute to polish off our coffee, and then headed up into the woods on the beginnings of the ridge trail. We were hoping to catch the last color of the year, as the leaves snowed down around us in the wind. The reds and yellows of the maples are gone, but the beeches and oaks still glowed with copper and russet and golden-bronze. It seemed a surprisingly short time until the Sparrowhawk pointed out the time, and we had to head back. The days are short if you want to get home by dark. We pulled over for a minute on the way back to watch the waves. We couldn't sit there very long. The wind was cold and blew fine particles of sand into our faces. The sun was so bright on the water that it dazzled like a sheet of fire. You couldn't look into it.
Home before sunset. Ham and noodles and salad for dinner.
We drove forthwith to the park. Along the road we got glimpses of the water. It was an incredible, intense sort of aquamarine, intense blue with a hint of green in it, opaque yet full of light like a precious stone, and with the wave crests actually foaming over with white crests of spray. Very cool. We sat by the river for just a minute to polish off our coffee, and then headed up into the woods on the beginnings of the ridge trail. We were hoping to catch the last color of the year, as the leaves snowed down around us in the wind. The reds and yellows of the maples are gone, but the beeches and oaks still glowed with copper and russet and golden-bronze. It seemed a surprisingly short time until the Sparrowhawk pointed out the time, and we had to head back. The days are short if you want to get home by dark. We pulled over for a minute on the way back to watch the waves. We couldn't sit there very long. The wind was cold and blew fine particles of sand into our faces. The sun was so bright on the water that it dazzled like a sheet of fire. You couldn't look into it.
Home before sunset. Ham and noodles and salad for dinner.
