Truly no horizon line today. Distant boats and low-flying planes are indistinguishable. Blessed rain. Mist.
New garden coming slowly, with surprises. At what point does the leaf become more important than the flower?
Drawn to these colors: greens, whites, and creams with a little purple, blue, yellow. The sky at sunset is florid enough.
No evidence of Great Lakes fish kill here, but clusters of boats day and night circling a single spot just offshore. Must be on one of those secret fishing maps.