My Gallery

This is my sanctuary, draped in the grey, where the mist is a ghost-touch, cool on my skin. The trail is a secret that has vanished away, to the places where lavender shadows begin.

I walk through a world of indigo swirls, where the clouds have descended to stay. A curtain drawn tight on the rest of the world, in a shimmering, emerald haze.

I cannot see where the winding path leads, through the amethyst depths of the cold. But the magic is not in the things that I know, more the mysteries yet to unfold.

(Inspired by an early summer hike on a mist filled day with rain in the distance. Impressionism watercolor painting and words by G. McGinty.)