Sunrise over Twin Bays - from my canoe

I spend most summer mornings and evenings paddling around the two bays on either side of our small peninsula and its small island. I take photos of the long vistas, close ups of the critters, the marsh, and anything that catches my eye. In the winter I also paint scenes from memory and a few of the photos. It will be a few weeks before I can get to the cabin. But soon.....

For this blog I am focusing on sunrises I have caught on film and one painting finished this month.

 I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,

I hear it in the deep heart's core.

W .B. Yeats

Early Morning Mist: Oil on canvas 

© Margaret Buffie

Good Morning Sunrise!

© Margaret Buffie

So lovely was the loneliness

  Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,

  And the tall pines that towered around.

Edgar Allan Poe

 

 © Margaret Buffie

A lake carries you into recesses 

of feeling otherwise impenetrable. 

William Wordsworth

© Margaret Buffie

Beneath their silvered film of haze.

Where mists and fogs in ghostly bands,

    Vague, dim, clothed in spectral light;

Drift in from far-off haunted lands,

WW Campbell

 © Margaret Buffie

The smoke from distant  forests created startling contrasts 

over the lake; changing the colours of misted blue to gray, black 

and shock orange - as if a fireball had dropped onto the water.

Margaret Buffie

 © Margaret Buffie

A lake is the landscape’s most beautiful and expressive feature. 

It is earth’s eye; looking into which the 

beholder measures the depth of his own nature. 

Henry David Thoreau

© Margaret Buffie

Blue, limpid, mighty, restless lakes...

   ...Low rimmed in woods and mists, where wakes,

    Through murk and moon, the marsh bird’s cry.

Where ever on, through drive and drift...
WW Campbell

© Margaret Buffie

Where fires of dawn responsive rise,

    In answer to your mystic speech.

Past lonely haunts of gull and loon,

    Past solitude of land-locked bays,

WW Campbell

© Margaret Buffie

So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.” 

Robert Frost

© Margaret Buffie

Moody and withdrawn, the lake unites

 a haunting loveliness to a raw desolateness. 

Dale Morgan

© Margaret Buffie

I've looked at clouds from both sides now

from up and down and still somehow

It's clouds illusions I recall....

Joni Mitchell

© Margaret Buffie

The sound of colors is so definite that it would be hard

to find anyone who would express yellow with base notes

or dark lake with treble. 

Wassily Kandinsky

© Margaret Buffie

At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear. 

Norman Maclean

© Margaret Buffie

The trees giving thanks to the sun for another day.

Margaret Buffie