Solitary Sunday Morning

There’s something to be said for taking a long, solitary walk on a quiet Sunday morning.  A solitary walk is different from a walk with the dogs or a walk with a companion or an exercise walk.  A solitary walk is with oneself, and that makes it special, reserved for one’s own desires, with any destination or pace you choose.

Sometimes I take these solitary walks at dawn, my favorite time of day, with my camera in hand and my eyes on my surroundings.  Sometimes I photograph, other times I just look and listen.  Often I pay most attention to the natural world around me, but occasionally I’m drawn to the houses, silent and dark, and their reflections in the lagoon before me.

Some of these houses are huge, many floors and many rooms, perhaps a measure of the wealth and opulence of the owners, perhaps a reward for a lifetime of labors.  Who knows?  I certainly don’t because I don’t know the owners, have never seen them or anyone else at these houses.  No one sunning on the patios, resting by the pools, walking the landscaped paths, or even just looking out from the balcony.  Does anyone live here?

I love the reflections in the lagoon, whether house, tree, sky, or bridge.  The still water mirrors whatever lies beyond the lagoon, and I can’t resist photographing these reflections, hoping that one or more will be a winning composition.  Later in the day the water is less a mirror, stirred by the breezes which blow in or out from the sea, so morning is a special time and this is a special walk.  Won’t you come with me sometime?