One of my favorite parts of summer is my daily sunrise yoga practice at Lake Harriet. Friday morning was particularly glorious: a cool, late summer breeze, pink-tinged clouds, the lonely screech of sea gulls and clank of sailboat moorings. It was all so beautiful I had to pull out my iPhone to take a picture. I’m so glad I did. I want to remember that August morning long after the snow flies.
It was a moment of blue sky between bizarre bouts of sleet, snow, and gusty winds. When I realized the sun was shining, I peeked out and saw these graceful cloud formations. They remind me of humpback whales swimming together, an avian courtship dance, or the lines of the continents mirroring each other like two pieces of the same puzzle.
Officially, it’s spring. But in reality, we’re in seasonal limbo. Ready for the beach, but still putting away the sleds. Longing to sweat, but still shaking off the chill. It all hangs in the balance from day to day – sunscreen or snowstorm? Only time will tell.
87/365: nokomis beach, between seasons
*This wooden walkway is the winter sidewalk leading to ice skating rinks on the lake.
Yesterday, the blue sky was THE inspiration. I chased the wisps of blue as they swirled in and out of the clouds. But, of all the images, I was drawn to this one. I like to create these color field compositions from nature, abstracted to mere swaths of color (albeit with a heavy Romantic flourish).
Today’s photo consists of two elements that I’m kind of a sucker for: clouds & trees. I confess, it takes some amount of discipline to keep my sky and tree photos to a reasonable number. I’ll do my best.
Ssshhhh. There is snow in the forecast but I don’t want to jinx it by talking about it out loud. I love snow. My kids love snow. And there is nothing I like better than a white Christmas. So, fingers-crossed!!
This photograph has nothing to do with snow. But, since I’m watching the skies, waiting for the flakes to fall, I thought I’d share a rosy outlook for your Friday. Think of it as something pretty for today, from me to you.
One year ago today, I walked out of my office for the last time. I closed the door on the cold comfort of a steady paycheck at the hands of days, weeks, and years stuck in an unhappy situation. Outside that door? A world of possibilities. The great unknown.
Sometimes it’s terrifying to be free. And I’m still figuring out the path ahead and how to keep moving forward without exactly knowing the destination. But this journey is vast, abundant, and worth every stumble. Plus, I’m traveling with the very best of companions.
If I start to panic, I try to remember to take a deep breath, relax, and go boldly because, well, WHY NOT? Mary Oliver’s lines are one of my favorite reminders:
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?