Sunrise | Krista Maurer

On Monday it looked like this,

and on Tuesday it looked like this.

On Wednesday

and on Thursday,

and then this morning as Hurricane Irene passed us by on her way up north it looked like this.

I brought the video camera along with me to shoot some live footage as well. To you West Coasters, these waves won’t look like anything compared to your Pacific. But for our lazy Atlantic, it was churning a right mighty lot. We only got the shoot off effects of the hurricane as it was a ways off our coast when it passed and never came inland on us directly.

In the video I am standing at the base of the water line which had come all the way up to the sand dunes–there was no beach to speak of–and the waves had littered the whole beach with debris.

My prayers go out to those of you in North Carolina and up the coast. We are so grateful Irene passed us by, but our hearts are with you. I hope you’re all safe.

Untitled from Krista Maurer on Vimeo.

Last week Frit had a day off work and we used her free morning to drive up into the Uintas for an early morning fishing trip. We woke before the sun, packed a cooler, loaded our gear, and were on our way as light made its way up over the horizon.

After an hour winding through the mountains, we hiked down a hill, past fields of blue bells, and over a tiny stream to a trail that wound around a sleeping lake. It was calm and quiet. In other words, it was perfection.

A few other fishermen were already perched at their stoops and kindly told us that the fishing was good. Not that that mattered to us. We never catch anything anyway, even if everyone else does. But that’s not why we go. We go for the calm. And the quiet.

The colors were deep and saturated, I remember. Plump with hue, the lake and sky volleyed their finest features back and forth, spilling over onto everything in their blue-green reach. And once the sun was high, her bright white yellow mingled gold and sparkling, chasing the shadows of night back into hiding.