The top one was taken yesterday morning or perhaps the morning before. I arrived at work with a few minutes to spare, and parked facing the lake. The cold morning was warming up, and there was mist rising off the lake. I don't know if you can really see it here or not, but it was there. It was cold - I've already said that, but that's OK. The sun was rising just behind the island, across the little harbour from the marina. The sky and the light in it was clear. I stood and watched it, taking pictures, just watching the mists slowly moving across the surface of the water. So often I just rush right into work - it was nice to just stand and watch.
The middle one I took just a few minutes ago. I'm sitting in the library, looking out at the same harbour, which is now grey and has snow softly falling into it. I really liked the pattern that the tire tracks made in the snow in the parking lot down below. They make parts of circles, intersecting. Lines. It looks like someone with a big piece of paper just playing with form - making wide arcs with charcoal, or something. A looseness about them.
I'm taking the day to sit in the library, and catch up on stuff. I'm rather excited about it. It feels good to catch up - catch up with your own life. "OK you, slow down, let me catch you, let me do some maintenance. Then you can go running off again." I'm hidden behind some stacks, I can hear when people come in the library and chat with the librarian, and I can hear their voices and try and guess who they are. But I'm sitting alone by the window, looking out at the snow.
(That's the third photo - inside the library. The old wooden tables and chairs. Haphazard comfort.)
There was a little boy here earlier, whose mother I know. They came down back to look around the children's area and take some books home. He's three years old. He ran over to me and picked up the jar of raisins, dried cranberries and sunflower seeds that I took with me for a snack.
"What's THIS?" He asked.
"Oh, that's my snack." I said. "Do you have snacks sometimes?"
"Yeah. But not now."
Later he came back down. "I think I'm going to have some," he said. "Of the snack."
His mother, at the front of the library, could hear him. "David, it's not nice to ask people for things. Wait until you're offered."
"You can have some," I said, after checking with her. I handed him a raisin, and a cranberry. He handed the cranberry back, "I don't like cranberries." But his eyes grew wide at the raisin.
"David, where's your manners?" His mother called.
"Thank you," he said.
"You're welcome, dear," I said, calling him "dear" automatically. The Maritimes make me call people dear, hon, buddy. He was twenty feet away already - kids move so fast. He turned around.
"What did you call me?"
"Dear!"
He giggled and ran away. I could hear him say to his mother, "Do you know what that girl said to me?"
"What did she say?"
"You're welcome, dear!" and he laughed.
"You ARE a dear," his mother said.
I think trading a raisin for that is a good bargain.
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