Morning after snowfall
Took the little old man for a walk in the woods, just ahead of the rain, and the dark.
There’s a little stream below the dam.
It sprinkled on the turn back, wetting the rocks and lichens.
Makes the colors stand out.
For some reason, Sundays always clear out fast every year at MASCF. By noon it’s all but deserted, with just us diehards still around. Odd, because, and because, it’s usually the nicest day to be there.
In the morning Michael Skalka and I took a sail on Aeon. This is Michael, one of the judges on Saturday. admiring Una:
Morning is long in the tooth. Missed breakfast. Almost missed coffee, which would have been a bad thing. You know the old church potluck trick, the tip-the-urn-forward-to-get-the-last-half-cup? Just enough caffein in the bottom to fuel requisite fumbling with a camp stove for a batch of the real deal.