This past weekend, my family and I escaped the frenetic pace that is Northern Virginia, and traveled a couple hours away to the beautiful Northern Neck. Unplugged, we played darts and dominoes and stayed up late into the evening. When we finally settled down, windows open and blinds up, I fell into a deep and peaceful slumber. You see, in the Northern Neck, the only light pollution comes from the thousands of fireflies winking on and off in the trees and grass.

When I woke to the sound of birdsong, I pried my eyes open: 5:19 a.m.; I am not a morning person. Outside, on these long June days, the sun was already brightening the sky. I briefly looked west and to the river below, and closed my eyes to the splendor just awakening, hoping to saw another log. But it was too late, I had glimpsed just enough for my brain to drag me from bed.


Quietly, so as not to wake my husband and kids, I fished my camera from its bag. Of course, Tully the Dog couldn’t be left behind, and together we slipped outside and made the trek down to the great Wicomico, hoping to catch sight of bald eagles, or osprey, or even the blue heron that leaves behind the shells of crabs on the wide wooden planks of our dock. But that morning, the only evidence of the avian residents was a single, perfect feather.



I sat on the edge of the dock, and armed with my camera, stared out at the mirror finish of the river, an expanse so glass-like, one would believe the clouds were in the sky and water both. The illusion was broken only by the random jump a fish, smooth and silkened circles no less reflective than the undisturbed moment before.

Sandwiched between the clouds, gentle puffs of fog slow-danced across the surface of the Wicomico. This fine atmosphere reached no higher than three or four feet from the water, as if, somehow, the reflected clouds could rejoin their brethren in the sky. I tried to capture them on my camera, but the ethereal beauty was as elusive as trying to take a picture of a ghost.

I’ve posted the pictures that I took that morning on the art & photos tab. I hope that you’ll take a look and find a little peace in the beauty that I tried to capture.

– River Fog & Tully the Dog –