f/10 • 35mm • 1/40s • ISO 640
October 9, 2026
Where the Lake Catches Fire
The water drinks the evening down,
In ripples drawn of glass and gold;
Beyond the ridge’s shadowed crown,
The embers of the day unfold.
A wash of crimson, bruised and deep,
Beneath the drift of purple sky,
Where dark Adirondack ridges keep,
Their watch as autumn shadows lie.
No paddle breaks the quiet tide,
No whisper stirs the fading air;
The world is open, still, and wide,
And painted past our making there.
We chase the light before it dies,
A fleeting gift of fire and stone,
Reflected in the mountain’s eyes,
And held a moment as our own.
Low on the water as dusk settled over 4th Lake, watching the sky shift from pale gold to deep crimson and bruised violet. When the wind settles just enough, the water surface acts like a slow liquid mirror, holding the afterglow long after the sun slips below the ridge.
There is something grounding about drifting at water level while the colors burn down to embers—a quiet reminder to pause and take in the transition.
Field Notes: Captured low to the waterline, framing the layered sunset reflections and the diagonal cloud plumes stretching over the Adirondack silhouettes.