The elderly man next door to where I am housesitting sometimes sits his porch for hours, just looking at the views. The only thing I've ever seen in his hands is a pair of binoculars. I try to not interrupt his time out there, though I do sit outside a fair amount of time myself. Not with his stillness though. I'll have a book, a drink, a meal, my camera, and sometimes all of those at once. I wonder what he thinks of my inability to just be there, taking it in. I bet he doesn't think about that at all. I have a tremendous crush on him.
This morning the views from every side knocked me breathless. The sun bursting in pink rays across the sky. Behind me, huge clouds reflected that lighting of the world, and just for the hell of it included a faint rainbow. I had to stop again.
On the way home to feed Cwim and water the gardens, driving by the boat launch, it was gasp-taking beauty, and I couldn't drive on without a poor attempt to capture the bay, opening to the sea.
Even the boats and town and the hillsides were bathed in a surreal light that made everything beautiful.
Is it the time of year? Is it in my head? Both, maybe...I think so. There are other things to write about but all I am filled with is this beauty in my world. And that's a good thing.