Water Visions: Rainbow Catcher

If you could see what I see,
You'd be blinded by the colors
Yellow, red, and orange, and green,
And at least a million others. . . .

We've had a run of really wonderful weather here in central PA. It was like a foretaste of autumn, with cool nights and lovely mornings; in the afternoon, hot in the sun; in the evening, delightful to sit on the front porch until darkness falls. And it falls way earlier now. By 8 p.m. or a bit later now, it's pretty dark; there won't be any more 8:30 sunsets until next May, if you can believe that!

I decided to take my bike over to my favorite pond in the Scotia Barrens to check out the reflections. We had a couple of big rains that filled it back up late in the summer season, and so it is open again for reflection shots, in a big way. Hooray!

And so it was that Saturday morning found me sitting on my sitting pad by my favorite pond, watching the sunlight and reflections play on the water. I took a bunch of shots: shoot in super-saturated mode, then take the camera home, upload the shots to the computer, play with them some more until they sing with color and light!

I happily took a short video of the pond, showing how I saw the water. I took a few selfies of me, just sitting there, looking happy as all get-out on a Saturday morning, with the morning sun reflecting off my pond and lighting up my own face, too. I am CHANGED by this pond. I have come here chasing rainbows and amphibians, and it has helped make me who I am now, in a way I can't even explain.

There were many pretty colors on the pond, and I need to tell you that they are reflections of the bushes that grow on the hill above my pond. The bushes are starting to get some reds and golds of fall. There are plenty of pinks and reds and purples now that weren't there before.

This was the last reflection shot I took before I packed up my stuff and left my pond to go back home. There's sometimes something magic about the first and the last shots in a place. Sometimes you arrive just in time to catch (or not catch) a heron, or some other amazing experience, or visitor.

Sometimes, just before you leave, you catch the rainbows in your hand and in your heart, and hold them, one last time, before letting them go. Yes, letting them go. I am a girl with a catch-and-release policy toward rainbows! I open my hand. I give my rainbows away, free for the asking. Here, this one's for YOU!

I've got two songs for this photo, which is one of what I call "Anita's Water Visions." Because THIS is how I see water. First, I'll give you a gorgeous song I use probably way too often, Kacey Musgraves, with Rainbow. Some of its lyrics appear above. I can't even express how much I love this song, and how she sings it, and how much hope it gives me and everybody else to watch and listen to her do it. It'll all be all right. . . .

And I'll give you the song that was playing on my tunes box as I sat, making these pictures. I remember the first time I heard it. We had gone to see the 2010 remake of the western classic True Grit, and this was the song that played at the end of it. I was riveted to my chair. I couldn't leave. We all watched and listened to that woman's clear voice sing out in the darkness; then we all filed out, silently. I hope the song feels like magic to you too: here's Iris DeMent, with Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.

Bonus: more on Instagram.