Saturday Morning's Catch
"Well, Toto, we sure aren't in Kansas anymore. . ."
Quick trip to Wisconsin, to the lakeshore, an early morning sunrise that was far more glorious than I can catch in my camera. When I couldn't get to the place I wanted to go that morning--the wetlands had swamped the lake roads--I headed back to the state park, where I guessed I could at least make it down the beach. I was right--and, even though the flooded lakeroads delayed my getting out there, I was still in time. Two flat banks of clouds were poised just above the horizon as the sun emerged.
I think it's just me: I'm just not good enough a photographer to get it right. I need a teacher; experience ain't enough. Experience, I've got plenty of, but I still can't get all that beauty in a file.
From a snowy beach at Terry Andrea-John Michael Kohler State Park, where I worked forty years ago. Might have caught this one then, too, way back then, on the right March morning. That's a good thought, a comforting thought.
On the frozen sand, not much to silhouette but long harried stalks of beach grass.
And a jet, adding an almost perfect line.
Honestly, I'm disappointed again because nothing captures what was there before me on the beach on Saturday morning. It's a game--and my own game attempt to get it right. But you can't miss, really, with that kind of heavenly beauty.