thoughts on a reel, and dust
cold, as in thirty-five degrees, wet, as in a steady rain, quiet, as in all you could hear was the muffled sound of rain in the trees. but overall i would say that it was beautiful as the rain finally forced my cameras to retreat to my camera bag, and thus made me to really see. i stood on the plank that passed for a bridge over a creek that wound its way into the grey expanse of lake michigan, which on this day was as though all across its hundreds of square miles, there wasn't a breath of wind. tiny ripples lapped at the waters edge as if lake michigan where nothing but a big puddle with no more concern than the stranger splashing in it. God, he knows me so well.
