Regaining my sense of humor about Fail Fandom
Gender, Identity, SF, & the Singularity ( a draft essay written 7/14/07)

Westport sunrise this morning

I forgot my camera when packing yesterday, and this morning's is a terrific sunrise, and so I'm going to try to describe it. Our Westport, NY living room overlooks Lake Champlain and has a wide bank of six-foot high windows facing the lake. Most mornings, I try to get up before actual sunrise to watch, though this morning I didn't get up until six, because I knew I'd left my camera home. So I arose shortly after sunrise.

My first impression was of a enchanted scene of peach and blue-gray. The sun was behind distant storm clouds beyond Vermont's Green mountains. The lake was very still, except for ripples which divided the reflected light into triangular sections of peach and blue. The creek feeding into the lake is running very high, and there were unusual circular ripple patterns where the creek meets the lake, suggesting frantic activity below the surface -- schools of fish.

The hooked outline of Camel's Hump mountain was clearly visible, the mountain is blue-gray, the sky apricot behind it. Because the lake is so still this morning, the far shore rendered as a symmetrical blue-green band, backed by a peach-tinged fog bank. Behind the fog bank rise the Green Mountains, in varying shades of pale-blue gray.

Furnace Point, on this shore to the north, also rendered as itself and its reflection, with its tree-line tall on the lake. As the sun rose higher, it warmed the surface of the lake, forming ethereal fog banks enveloping furnace point, which lasted a few minutes and then dissipated.

On the shore below my house there are three people and three dogs (who've just had a run around the beach) plus Lala (the Great White Cat of Westport) who now strolls up the road after the departure of the people and dogs in a minivan. Lala (a peculiar name for an enormous white tomcat of sturdy British short-hair ancestry) I initially mistook for a small white dog because she seemed to be with the dog pack.

The birds by the lake are relatively still except for swallows swooping over the reeds at Lee Park Beech. (The most frantic bird activity takes place at the moment of actual sunrise, and I slept through that.) There are a few Canadian geese ducking in the creek, and a small group of six geese sitting on a piece of concrete just off shore. A few swallows, gulls, and ducks are flying close to the lakes surface, presumably looking for fish.

This tableau is accompanied by the sound of the loud purring of the Ambrose, our black cat who is the same type as Lala except younger and in the opposite color, who seems to feel that all is right in the world because I got out of bed when he thinks I should, and by the cooing of pigeons who live in the unused slate-roofed building next door, plus the occasional cry of gulls.

Looking down into our yard, I see daisies and wildflowers blooming and that our yard is in intense need of mowing. The lake, now, has faded to pale yellow, the peach tones mostly gone. The sun is behind the clouds, and looks like it will stay there for quite a while. There are a few mosquitoes on the window, luckily on the outside.

I do wish I'd brought my camera. I could have taken some great pictures.

Now I get dressed and take my coffee downstairs and try to organize books in our bookstore-to-be. The kids can will come find me when they wake up and then we'll have pastries from Ernie's, next door, for breakfast.