The Rhythms of Dance...Remembered

I ran away yesterday evening after feeding Music and Pearl, supposedly to the Winn Dixie for Music's turkey. But I drove by way of East Beach and discovered the sun just slipping below the horizon. I caught it just barely, and stayed for the afterglow, which just happened to be a lemony yellow at first, growing more delicately pink as night came closer. 

It was low tide, which gave me a marvelous chance to capture those remarkable rhythms made clearly visible by the collusion of air, earth, water, and fire. My Airth dance was thoroughly given back to me, and I found myself basking in the familiar pleasure of natural union. My elderly body forget its recent infirmities. (I may have pushed it a little too far, if what it is telling me this morning is true.) But it was always thus when it came to dancing. I flung myself into the magic of ecstatic merging, and suffered for it the next day and the next. It was worth it.

Not positive the photographs tell you what they seem to tell me on this morning after. It is terribly difficult to choose. But I think the old Olympus, which I have returned to for its tilting screen to deal with reflections, did a pretty good job, especially on this abstract that isn't really an abstract. It is so amazing seeing the designs produced by wind and water. I include a couple of extras to show the variety. Hope you enjoy the dance. I certainly did.

I did not make it to the Winn Dixie. Music would get scrambled egg for breakfast.