This is the view of Mazinaw Lake at Bon Echo Sunday morning. The fog and mist were sitting heavily on the water, reducing visibility to about 15 feet. It was an eerie otherworld, both quiet and loud with tiny sounds echoing off the cliffs we couldn't yet see. It was one of the most remarkable outings.
This was our first visit, so along with limited sight-lines we had no familiarity with the geography to guide us (other than our maps) but it didn't take long to see vague darkness ahead - the cliffs.
Eerie. Quiet. Beautiful.
It's amazing to see trees growing in the rocks, many with exposed roots. And there were lots of spiderwebs hanging from their branches. The webs were coated in the heavy mist and looked like strings of beads.
The cliffs are known for the Native pictographs or rock paintings -- the following being one of the more commonly seen in photographs:
And one last surprise of the morning -- on the way back, this butterfly appeared out of the mist on the lake, catching me by surprise. It was so colourful against the grey sky.
Sunset from the back garden this past Monday.
(ETA @ 2010-09-21 1525h) Here is a screenshot of Adobe Bridge showing the raw (right) and edited (left) images:
For both, I tweaked the white balance, decreased exposure a touch and did a slight tone curve adjustment to highlights and shadows using Lightroom. For the bottom image, I cloned out the tree branches in Photoshop.
From Saturday morning's excursion, canoeing on the calm waters of Crotch Lake.
It was a gorgeous day weather-wise. Clear skies, sunny but not hot. When we put in, we were greeted by a beaver swimming around us, coming close, so close, even closer ... and then with a big! splash of his tail he was gone. (Though we spotted his little head from across the lake a few more times that morning.)
It's been a long time.
A loooooooooonnnnngggg time.
I can't think of anything more soothing to my soul than being out on a calm lake in the early morning listening to the quiet sounds of water lapping against the canoe and dribbling from the end of a paddle, and not-so quiet loons calling to one another. And all the while, watching the sky and clouds shifting and the mist slowly swirl and disappear as the sun begins to warm the air.
I have missed this so much.