Sky Dragons and a Million Dollar Bridge

When the Theodosia Bridge was completed in 1952, it was called "The Million Dollar Bridge". A few years ago, the government mandated that the old paint be removed and replaced with one that was more environmentally friendly, and the new paint job cost more than it did to build the bridge.  The material didn't hold up as well as the original, and it's slated to be painted again soon.  They're estimating four million this time.

Aside from all of that, it certainly looked like a Four Million Dollar bridge this morning,

enveloped in sun-lit fog.

The breeze was constantly changing the formation of the fog, 

swirling it to form hawks and dragons...

before the sun started to burn its way through, casting its gold on the water.

A window in the fog revealed distant hilltops.

Nearby, a fisherman had parked his boat and trailer, and was out on the chilly water, 

but in this particular spot, it was only God and me 

and a lone gull, soaring over the bridge.

It wasn't a bad way to start the day.

I headed home through the fog, and contrary to appearances, 

the other end of the bridge was still in place.

Priceless.

Linking with Weekly Top Shot
and Skywatch Friday

Mom's Incredible Apple Pie

It's impossible for me to make a pie without thinking about Mom. I made an apple pie today, and every motion of my hand is something she taught me. Before I could walk, I was watching her roll out the dough, and while I was still in pigtails, she was including me in the process, giving encouragement and patiently correcting my blunders. Making a pie is like stepping back into Saturday night in Mom's kitchen.

I can still see Mom as she slips her apron off the peg in the closet and ties it around her waist. In her big white mixing bowl, she cuts Crisco into the flour mixture with two knives, sprinkles in a little ice water, and gathers the dough into a ball. Humming a tune, she presses it flat and rolls it out thin.

She glances at me over her shoulder. "When I'm in a good mood," she says thoughtfully, "the pie crusts turn out, and when I'm in a bad mood, they don't." Judging from the results, Mom wasn't in a bad mood very often.

Mom had a varied resume when it came to pies; there was rhubarb (my favorite), and blackberry and lemon meringue, cherry, pumpkin and mincemeat.This night's project was one of her specialties, her Incredible Apple Pie.  The fruit had to be firm and tart, and this time of year in Washington state, where I grew up, such apples were abundant.

Mom peals the apples, and I help. "When I was young," she tells me, smiling, "my sisters and I used try to get the whole peal off in one long spiral. We'd see who could get the longest one."

Mom slices the apples thin, adds sugar and spices, a top crust, and pops her masterpiece in the oven. When the pie is nicely browned, she takes it out of the oven and leans down to listen. It's bubbling, so it's done.

The aroma is mouth watering, and for her children who can't wait 'til Sunday dinner, there are scraps of pie crust with cinnamon and sugar. Oh, what bliss!

Mom's been gone for a long time now.  

If there are pies in heaven, and it's hard to imagine otherwise,
she certainly has her apron on.

Just Last Week

Dogwood leaves

glowed crimson through the morning mist.

Click on image to enlarge.

From a windy hilltop,

the afternoon sun ducked in and out of clouds

 lighting trees afire and dousing others in the shadows.

The colors were brilliant and brief.




"Nothing gold can stay."

Robert Frost

Fleeting Victory

In vibrant colors

Fall steals the road from summer

Inevitably.







Linking with Weekly Top Shot