Saturday, December 8, 2007

The fog creeps in on little cat feet...



Every morning there are views from the ferry that are so inexpressibly beautiful. Some days it is the quietness of the water. Some days it's how every ripple stands alone. A tiny two-person fishing boat away in the mist balances against a container ship whose rust catches the morning sunlight. One of the fast hydrofoils coming in from Macau leaves a trail of white that curves far off into the distance. It cuts the water so deeply that even after it is out of sight, the deep bubbles hold together under the water and there is a cloud of green where it passed.
I take picture after picture. It's so great having a memory card that holds over 500 pictures. I want to sit you down and make you look at all of them. And I would if I could think of some excuse to post them all. (There's a photo album of commuting pictures on my facebook page for anyone who is interested.)
I especially love how the mist colours the light in the early morning and leaches the colour out of the light the rest of the day. It makes everything look like the memory of the colour of water. I've really been enjoying the misty days that are still warm even now in mid-December.
But I've been coughing for three weeks now. And at lunch time the grumbly ones who hang out in the staff room too long pointed out to me that there is no mist in December. This is the dry season. It doesn't make the sunrise any less beautiful to know that it's all smog.

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