Blog

Date Night

In September, every night is date night. Brooks and I golfcart to the lake, eschewing television drama for gentle rhythms of lake life. Then we walk. Narrow lines of wrack outline recent drops of water level. We walk through a short stretch of woods where whitewash from a vultures’ roost has left painterly splotches on leaves and pine needles. The Day Use parking lot is all but empty once a Harley roars to life and creeps past us. We find the vultures… they are gathered, two dozen in all, to stand unchallenged on park grills and picnic tables. We acknowledge their presence, they acknowledge ours, and no one flies. From the top of the dike, fading light reminds me of my first-ever photograph of Lake Jocassee: same muted colors, same haze over the Blue Wall. We sit a spell on a memorial bench. September is ending its daylight hours, whirling up voluminous clouds that capture an oil paint palatte of evening light. Steady breeze blows away last remnants of day’s heat, and we call it a good night. ~K