Vermont’s Green Mountains figure prominently in Rosslyn sunrises. But backlit Greens aren’t actually very green at all. Gray-black, perhaps, with a hint of blue. The fiery sunrise steals the show, silhouetting the mountain range and bathing Lake Champlain in joyful light.
Observed from the reading nook in the upstairs hallway, a more elevated perspective than I usually post, there’s something exotic about a scene normally so familiar, a heightened sense of depth and distance, the slightly disorienting illusion that the frozen lake is an immense plain. The stark contrast between the mountains and the sunrise is breathtaking but familiar, as is the clear sky’s ember-y amber to ocean blue gradient.
And then there’s the playful juxtaposition of sunburst gate (in the center foreground) and the celestial orb that inspired it just barely beginning to peak above the mountains. And the frozen lake. Ten years ago today. A recent yesteryear that already seems long, long ago due to the infrequent freezes nowadays. Stretching from shore-to-shore, the surface of the lake is mottled, snowless ice reflecting the glowing sky differently from the snow covered ice. These subtle irregularities in the frozen plain’s illumination add an otherworldly aspect. And yet the textured surface invites investigation. On skates, perhaps, or snowshoes. Cross-country skis might work, gliding from snowy patch to snowy patch.
Backlit Greens Haiku
Blue-black range ablaze,
mirror mottled silhouette,
lake frozen, windswept.
What do you think?