I’ve allowed myself to lament the rain-rain-rainiest summer in memory more than becomes me. More than becomes Rosslyn too, I imagine. Apologies, friends. I’ll try to stiff-upper-lip it for balance. But before sidestepping it altogether, indulge me a moment to consider a silver lining. My misty mellowing isn’t mine at all, not these photos of it, at least.

Credit for these moody, almost monochrome moments is due my bride, Susan. She captured this moment yesterday evening when the drizzle finally ceased and the brouillard rolled in thick as whipped cream on a strawberry shortcake.

I was struck in the moment she took these photos, and subsequently upon reviewing them, that

• the hammock and rocking chairs appear to be in conversation,
• Rosslyn’s boathouse is a singularly soothing sanctuary,
• the fog swaddled stillness after a rainstorm, especially lakeside, invites contemplative quiet and is remarkably soothing,
• and the misty muting of this scene’s sensual sepia tones is… audible!

Misty Mellowing Haiku

Misty mellowing
lakeside after the rainstorm
sepia soundscape

A Sepia Soundscape?

Yes. The sound of sepia?! Sure, it sounds slight crazy. At least it would if you hadn’t seen the photographs. If I hadn’t stood with Susan and looked down upon this recently rained upon, recently fogged in, recently muffled scene.

Maybe you can hear it. Subdued. Almost inaudible at first. Drips, less and less frequent, falling from the cedar shakes onto the pier, into the water. A soft slosh of calming water, resting, recovering from the storm. A warm, humid coziness, mood mellowing as if feeling the sepia tones on the skin, a faint music soothing…