Whipped, White-capped Twilight

As blue skies and true twilight finally return to our Chesapeake Bay retreat, so do two days of unrelenting, gale-force, sub-freezing wind.

Regard the white-caps. This isn’t the sea, but a bay that was silky-smooth yesterday, now getting whipped until it froths for mercy.

Pain and beauty, so often twins.

In my twenties, I fought the obvious, wanting it all. Now? Shrug, what the freak can you do, it’s true. Lean into the dark, biting wind and foretaste the end.

Then smile, press the shutter and swallow another saw-tooth lesson.

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