Welcome back to the trail, everyone. This week, Leanne’s Monochrome Madness prompt felt like the perfect invitation to revisit my archives and spend some time practicing my black-and-white conversions in my spiffy new tool — ON1.
The image I’m sharing today carries a bit of unexpected magic from a quiet, midsummer ramble back in late July of 2021. I had stopped to eat my lunch by the river at the Squirrel Creek Conservation Area in Cavan Monaghan, fully expecting the usual summer bustle. Instead, a lovely, idyllic peace settled over the afternoon—the beach area was completely deserted, and there wasn’t a single boat out on the Otonabee River.
I initially captured this view with my bridge book project in mind, but for some unknown reason, I tucked it away and simply saved it for myself. Looking at it this week, I realized it was just waiting for the right moment to cross the bridge of time. By deepening the values to mimic the vibrant, July sky and the light glinting off the geese, I hope the scene found its true dramatic voice.
A Beautiful, Silver World
The Otonabee wide and still,
a midsummer mirror reflecting a theater of light.
No wakes from passing boats to shatter the glass,
no voices on the sand at Squirrel Creek,
just a solitary traveler
breaking bread at the water’s edge.
Above, the clouds are restless—
scudding across the great blue dome,
their white crests catching the high July sun,
casting shadows that sprint over the banks of Cavan Monaghan.
Then, the ink of the monochrome shift reveals the truth:
the long, confident stride of the concrete bridge,
its under-spans anchoring the scene in deep, graphic blacks,
stretching from shore to shore.
And out on the water, the geese drift,
a quiet company in the emptiness.
Every time the wind stirs the scudding sky,
the bright summer sun glints—
sharp, sudden, and brilliant—
off their white chests,
like small beacons of light
in a beautiful, silver world.
Saved for years for no known reason,
perhaps only to wait for this very moment
to cross the bridge of time.
There is something incredibly special about finding a popular spot completely deserted in the height of midsummer—as if the usual busyness paused just long enough for me to enjoy my lunch and quiet interlude. I hope it brings a little bit of that quiet summer joy to your world today!
’Til next time, y’all…
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