The little dog and I were driving to a quite little lake hike trailhead, hoping that the skies would open, as promised by the weather service, for at least an hour or two. Fog and low clouds hugged Gastineau Channel as we headed out the road. Ten miles north, the morning sun was powering through clouds and fog and striking the glacier. When we identified this magnificent December gift, we drove there..
On times like this, I always wonder if the 14-year-old poodle mix can see as far as the glacier flowing out of sharp-peaked mountains. She keeps her nose glued to a trail that will eventually lead her to a handful of dog food dropped during a recent rain storm. That’s her idea of a perfect poodle holiday gift. Sun reflecting on tiny sections of flat-calm water makes her squint.
We cross two small streams and continue down a snow-covered beach. Aki gets frustrated about how many times I stop to take pictures of the lake, the glacier, and the surrounding mountains. Then I stop to take another photograph of Mt. McGinnis and find it hidden in fog. So are the other mountains and the glacier. Maybe, if the lake ice was strong enough to support the little dog and I, we could walk through the growing wall of fog and see all that sunny beauty again. But I have proof in camera of the gift of almost too-rich beauty we already received this Christmas Eve.
Een schilder op Ameland had altijd het zelfde thema: wolken, horizon, kustlijn, strand & vloed, met wolken, mooi weer, slecht weer en ik vroeg: “Kan hij geen duinpannetje met een vuurtoren schilderen?” Nee, dat kon hij niet, want hij keek naar de kleuren en geuren en de wind, met opwaaiend zand. Kortom, een Waddeneiland langs de Nederlandse kust. Alles goed met uw voet?
Elfriede, 26-12-2020 * http://www.friedabblog.wordpress.com