March has been a dreary month distinguished by somber light, ill weather and a deadly virus. During this muddy stretch, we usually get most of our sleet and snow but this year it has been all rain and drizzle.
The clocks were struck ahead so twilight is later but the dawn is diffused by a morning mist that cloaks the landscape in a depressing aura. The individual shapes are broken into receding planes that gradually disappear into a blank slate of firmament.
The sun strains desperately to filter its first light into an eerie woodland shrouded by dense fog. Some of the rays are funneled through narrow passages between the trees creating surreal beams that flood the forest floor.
The desaturated colors are dull, the black mountains are buttressed by a tawny meadow and slags of gray snow slide across the scene. The interior is filled with a thick atmosphere of soupy moisture that softens every sharp edge.
Citizens have been asked to disperse, interact socially from beyond a certain distance and refrain from unnecessary activity. The State of Emergency is an unprecedented time of dramatic cancellations and closures that have broken life down to its basics.
Extremely superstitious and a devout believer in Karma, I could never take lightly the lethal ramifications of a global pandemic. I have learned long ago to never underestimate the power of nature so if I’m not out alone in the wilderness, you’ll find me confined in a necessary quarantine.
|Surreal beams of light|
|Rays are funneled through passages|
|An eerie woodland|
|Shrouded in dense fog|
|A depressing aura|
|A dreary month|
|A State of Emergency|
|Alone in the wilderness|