Socked in

I awoke at 4:30 this morning intent on having one last early morning, pre-breakfast fishing excursion. But, from our front windows I couldn't see beyond the opening to the cove in which the lodge is nestled. FOG. Drippy fog. Now, if that doesn't beat all! Feeling our way along the water didn't seem appealing, so I went back to bed without waking Tal. Thursday's sunrise photos will be the only ones this trip.

But, at 9:30 last evening Tal and I pulled away from our dock, cruised out to the nearest island, about a mile away, I guess. And, from there we turned back to face west and watched the sun go down. Truly a powerful, humbling sight. At one point we could see three con-trails, each one on a slightly different course, two moving east and the third going west.

There we sat, two people who mean the world to each other in a little aluminum boat with the motor putting along in neutral on one of thousands of lakes in this part of the world under a great big, glowing sky witnessing the steady rotation of the earth, while probably several hundred people flew over us, each one on some sort of mission, going someplace for a particular reason. Almost more than a heart can bear.

We were back at our dock before 10 o'clock (22 hundred, according to the watch I'm wearing), satisfied and very ready for sleep.