A Certain Slant of Light / Symphony in Gold & Blue

It was a sunny and gorgeous spring-like day with adventures that ranged far and wide. We started out with a Plan A that was absolutely thwarted, and so we did a turnabout, and came up with a Plan B that was way better than Plan A ever had been!

Quite by accident, we ended up at the Julian Wetlands for an unexpected walk. The last time we were there, I was in great pain from some unknown injury to my right knee, and could hardly walk. I had to use a cane for a week in late Nov./early Dec. I'm happy to report that that injury is fading, slowly, and that I'm doing better walking, but still not 100%.

It was much more fun to be there on this day when I was able to make it quite easily to both of the little duck blind structures they have scattered around the wetland. We looked out over the marsh and it seemed like a symphony in gold and blue.

We ended up at a McDonald's for some truly divine fish sandwiches and a little boat of golden and crispy fries. It absolutely hit the spot, and we each had a sandwich there and took one for later. On the way home, my husband dropped me off by my favorite little vernal pond in the Scotia Barrens, which you may see above.

As I arrived there, I noticed a beam of light that shone through the trees at an odd angle, lighting up the leaves bright orange beneath the water. There was a bit of wind and it was doing neat things with the tree reflections. You know me: I was a girl besotted, obsessed. As I watched, a leaf moved across the surface like a tiny boat, under its own power, setting sail upon all those beautiful reflections.

A thing I was amazed by was how much the reflections moved and changed each minute. And then I looked at the tree reflections and they were like . . . a poor artist's version of trees, something weird, little jots of color, made up by someone who'd perhaps never even SEEN a tree before!

I found myself sort of clinging to/hanging from one of the big trees along the edge with my camera - one hand for the tree, one hand for the camera - snapping away on the photo box, when two people with a dog walked by. I think they said Hi. I sort of waved, but I couldn't let go of my tree to turn off my music to even HEAR them.

So if it was you, I'm sorry, I'm the rude girl with a camera hanging from a tree in the Barrens and not answering back, but for good reasons! Anyway, you may see one of my best shots of that certain slant of light (with kudos to Emily Dickinson) that caught my eye above, on a glorious spring-like February day!

I have two photos, so let's have two songs. (These choices are BOTH about doing what you love in life. Which, mostly, I do!) Saturday night, we were lucky enough to stumble across a Prince show on public TV from the Purple Rain tour in 1985. We got to watch the last part of it, which concluded with a 16-minute version of the song itself, Purple Rain. Yes, I waved my hands in the air and I did cry a little for the 80s, which I adored. (You can take the girl out of the 80s, my loves, but you can NEVER take the 80s out of the girl!)

And I said to my husband, how surprised I was that Prince hadn't lived longer, but that I was SO GLAD that it seemed he spent his short time here doing something that he loved, something that he was really, REALLY good at, giving the world something unique and special and beautiful. So here is that version of the song we saw and heard, Purple Rain, recorded in Syracuse, NY, on March 30, 1985.

My second song is a tune that makes me giggle, and it seems like a celebration of doing fun, ridiculous things. (Hey, I can SO get down with that.) I often find myself singing the line, "If I had a pony, I'd ride it on my boat!" I read an interview with Lyle Lovett, where he says that the song If I Had a Boat is about escape and emancipation. It includes the line:  "Kiss my a**, I bought a boat, I'm going out to sea." Alllll-righty-then! ;-)