Goosed At Twilight In The Not So Wild-erness

"But when I am alone in the half light of the canyon,

all existence seems to fade to a being with my soul and memories."

-- Robert Redford, A River Runs Through It

Twilight sky 11-11-14

"At length he reached a place where the high, arching boughs made a chapel.

He softly pushed the green doors aside and entered ...

There was a religious half light."

-- Stephen Crane, The Red Badge of Courage

Field trip!

I got out of the house for a little while yesterday.

Leo's girlfriend, Mackenna, and I drove to the lovely little town of Vermilion to buy some olive oil. She needed some for a gift. I needed some for my rosemary focaccia. And there's a little shop there that sells nothing but olive oils and balsamic vinegars.

I had Mackenna drive, because I'm still not super-steady after my surgery and I feel like my brain is working at about half speed. So I told her I'd buy her a tank of gas if she'd chauffeur me there and back in her little yellow Jeep.

Going to that store was a good thing for sure. They have rows and rows of silver urns full of infused oils and vinegars, with little plastic communion cups for tasting. We tasted them all, and bought several.

Mackenna got what she needed, and so did I. And then we drove home.

The drive to Vermilion and back on Route 6 runs along the coast of Lake Erie. At this time of year, the scenery is pretty much natural beauty on the left, grandeur on the right.

But yesterday, it was the sky that stole the show.

Mackenna is a girl after my own heart, because she goes all gaga for a pretty sky too.

Her: "The sky has been so amazing today."

Me: "Yep."

Her: "On my way to school this morning I wanted to stop and take a picture of it. But I didn't want to just stop on the side of the road. It never looks the same in pictures anyway."

She's was right. But I decided it was worth a shot.

Twilight in the Wilderness (Frederic Edwin Church)

Because by the time we got back home, the sun was tucking in for the night, sinking slowly below the horizon, sending its soft glow onto the clouds' undersides, spreading its melty palette of pinks and oranges and blues and golds gloriously across the twilight sky.

It looked a little like my favorite Frederic Edwin Church painting, "Twilight in the Wilderness," minus the pine trees and mountains and canyon and river.

But that's OK. Because I got goosed!

I was snapping pictures from the sidewalk when we heard the honking. And as if on cue, a big "V" of Canada geese flew overhead -- close enough to hear the whoosh of air on their wings -- and then swept into the scene spread out before us.

Pretty fucking glorious.

No, we weren't in the wilderness. But it was definitely twilight. And the wilderness did fly over for just a moment.

And that was good enough.