Riley's Lock, C&O

Recently, Sundays have become my museum day, where I get up lazily and then finally motivate to bond with Art by afternoon.  No museum last weekend though.  Or perhaps, a personal one, not an official one.  I drove down River Road until it ends, and then took a left and another left until I got to nostalgia-land: Riley's Lock, C&O canal. 

In high school, I remember jumping off this bridge (before part of it crumbled away) and swimming one night, paddling in the sultry dark.  The water was much higher (and cleaner, I like to think), as I remember when I came up for air, a friend pointed out that pipe, noting that I'd missed landing on it by the matter of about a foot.  We swam and sat around a fire and drank beer, peaceful as could be, chatting up some people who were camping there overnight.  We were probably missing all kinds of permits and permissions, if any of that was even allowed, but no one seemed to care and we didn't cause any harm. 

My favorite kind of light, the last gasps of the day, that turns everything red in the face of the setting sun. 

It was one gorgeous sunset. 

Reflections of the sky turned the water pink. 

Twas a day to revist the past and check the signposts.  To revel in beauty, the clarity of solitude, quiet places and lapping water, rivers that still flow through me, to remember good company and look forward to future warmth, all added up to a day well spent.