I was hoping to see the sunrise and only feel a breath of wind, but the day was otherwise. It may seem contradictory but the subtlety of a grey day has its own drama. I rounded the corner of Sleeping Bear Point where the bluff guarded a stretch of beach and there was a dramatic calming of the rolling waves. The colors of the bay that were broken by cresting waves just a dozen yards behind me, now lie in large sheets. Water and wind seemed to find a balance, cancelling each others voices on the shoreline. It was indeed a sanctuary. It was if the the bear was dozing.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Sleeping Sleeping Bear
I was hoping to see the sunrise and only feel a breath of wind, but the day was otherwise. It may seem contradictory but the subtlety of a grey day has its own drama. I rounded the corner of Sleeping Bear Point where the bluff guarded a stretch of beach and there was a dramatic calming of the rolling waves. The colors of the bay that were broken by cresting waves just a dozen yards behind me, now lie in large sheets. Water and wind seemed to find a balance, cancelling each others voices on the shoreline. It was indeed a sanctuary. It was if the the bear was dozing.
