The lake is spectacular this time of year. In the early morning, the cool air creates misty ghosts that rise from the water and wander in circles with every swirl of air. Sometimes they march right past the dock. Other times, they circle off in the distance.
I’ve never been able to capture them in a photo. They are as elusive as a smoke, burning off as soon as the sun rises above the tree line. But while they’re here, I love to watch them wander past like the souls who lived and breathed before me, now hurrying off to who knows where.