On our last day in Annecy, I walked to the lake at dawn to watch the Alpine sunrise. Recalling memories of many past sunrises shared with special people at different points of life, be it at the Point in Chicago or Clarke Quay in Singapore, a flush of nostalgia came over me as I waited for the sun.
The lake was at peace, the sky masked in grey – a scene undisturbed but for a lone jogger and my camera. A peak shrouded in morning mist, the kaleidoscopic row of boats, the perfect stream of ripples on the water, a stain of brilliant rose gold in a stormy cloud – my memory of this morning is like an impressionist painting, the brushstrokes hazy but the emotions clear. At the boat-lined estuary, I marveled at the perfect blend of man and nature. A man said bonjour as I wandered past him adjusting his mast. The clouds drifted apart, and my soul felt cleansed – refreshed intrinsically.
And, finally, after day of rain, blue skies.
Musings of a Leaf 