Early yesterday morning I stepped from cool granite to dewed grass, making my way down to the water.

It was pre-dawn, the colors just finding their way across the sky.

I was reminded that the light changes so quickly at that time of day, that any element I noticed might be fleeting. And, sure enough, that was true.

Just before the sun showed itself above the trees, the water turned from a nearly black, deep green to… the sky.

All around me, beneath my feet, were cotton-y clouds sliding along gradations of cerulean.

The photo above was taken from our dock. I was standing, pointing the camera down, hoping what I was seeing would make it through glass and shutter. I could not, no matter where I moved or what position-slash-angle I took, see anything but sky… no sandy bottom, nor discarded shells, nor sea-dwelling creatures moving about. It looked just as it does above. If you zoom in on the top, right corner, you can actually see a few small ripples.

That light lasted no more than a few minutes, only until the sun rose above the trees. Once its rays touched the water directly,  the world morphed into a different beautiful.

A seal hunted nearby, fish jumping wildly ahead of its leaping and splashing, tempting me to hurriedly set my camera up to capture the action. But I didn’t.

Instead, I remained wrapped in the memory of those fleeting moments, the trick of the light that turned water into sky.

And the gift of knowing that, in this place and once in a while, there exists the real possibility…

Of rowing my little boat amongst the clouds.

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