For some people, sleeping in is one of life's guilty pleasures. They could never be leisurologists because a true leisurologist sleeps with one eye open and one foot out the door. This morning I arose at 5:08 a.m and was leaving the motel by 5:18 a.m. The morning was a brackish grey but I was determined to get out there and greet what little sunrise I might find.
The light was spectacularly unspecial but the landscape more than made up for it. The sandstone buttresses at Dune du Sud were pleasing to the senses, touch as much as sight, though not as warmly lit as I might have hoped. Alas, I worked with what I was given, which was still plenty. The soft sandstone housed signatures of past visitors. I left a few footprints in the night-washed sand, and took nothing more than images. The image above was my favourite. Florence of Levis, Quebec, clearly shared my passion for this place.
Florence will slip from the walls as wind, water and erosion take her to the sea. Signature or not, I suspect she'll always be here in one form or another, as will I.
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