I returned to Lake Ontario the day after taking the shots I posted yesterday in the blog. Like fingerprints, no two sunrises are alike, and this one was simple but beautiful: a fiery orange ball birthed from a clear, cloudless horizon. On the rocks at my feet, a burned-out votive and a wilted, scattered posy of flowers, remnants of another person seeking peace and comfort in this lonely spot. Perhaps it's the very scope of the view, looking out to where water meets sky at infinity, that transports you far away from the here and now, isolates you in a bubble, and opens an ephemeral connection to what's been lost in the past.