When I started this blog, I thought I'd offer my great-nieces and great-nephew a window into my life. I didn't want to be the Somewhat Unknown Great Aunt Robley.Over time, the blog morphed into something else -- a kind of journal of my daily living.
And then, again over time, it morphed into a celebration of the world in which I wander every day.
I am sure it will morph anew, but for now I am happy to record bits of my daily ambles.
Today, I spent almost three hours with a friend at Lake Dimmick, also known as Day Lake. It has fast become my favorite place on earth. A walk through two locked gates (the first next to a white horse), a winding stretch of road, an old field and barn on one side and woods on the other, the woods slowly giving way to a shallow, life-filled lake studded with Snot Grass and rippling water scudded with clouds.
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Other than Greg's occasional voice or the paper scuffle of dragonfly wings or the jets high above, there is no sound, no person other than my friend and me.
If I were Thoreau or Dillard, I would happily settle in a tiny house on the edge of far woods and spend my days marveling at such sights as these:
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