It had been a stressful last couple of hours at work. I was reflecting about how everything went down and wondering if there was anything that I could have handled differently…better. My only hope was that some of the decisions I made were to my credit. Feeling like a failure after work is a common occurrence. Someone told me once that I’m a round peg trying to fit into a square hole there. It’s so true. At the same time I’m begrudgingly ruminating over the fact that because of Daylight Savings Time I am now driving home in the fast approaching darkness. The guy that thought this up obviously never struggled annually with seasonal depression. So while I’m frustrated about my struggles at work and being robbed of much-needed sunlight, I come around a curve by one of the lakes on my way home. My mind stops it’s constant stream of…well…thought to gasp.

Spread out before me is a scene of quiet beauty. I gently tap my brakes to take it all in. The view from this curve always causes me to catch my breath, if I’m paying attention. But this, I was not at all prepared for. There’s a break in the trees that line the lake just wide enough to see the wood-line that gracefully hugs the shore. There are large branches reaching out over the water as these old trees grip with all their might to stay rooted in the ground. Passed what’s left of the woods are houses lining the lake, tiny in the distance. Warm yellow light flows from inside their window panes, casting long fingers of gold on the still, dark navy water. Out of the vast darkness speckled with light rises a silvery-white mist. Far from making things haunted or eerie, as mists sometimes do, it gives the twilight a dusting of the magical as it reluctantly gives way to the darkness of night. The furthest edge of the lake is obscured, blending the deep blue of the water with the cerulean blue of the sky. There are no stars, just a deep calming blue that reminds me to appreciate my gift for noticing the details.

For a moment I wished I had my camera to capture this quiet moment. The truth is I just wanted to go home. Besides, by the time I found a good place to set up, and put everything in that place, all remaining light would be gone along with the beautiful deep blue colors. So for the brief moment that my car passed that opening in the trees, I soaked in every detail. And I kept moving forward, toward home.

Be Blessed,
Megan