At that “in between” time again. Twilight. It’s not day and it’s not night. Every day we hover here for just a minute or so while the Earth tries to make up its mind which way it wants to go. This confusion appears to permeate all of reality during those precious few seconds. Here you see that the sky and the water have become confused. Each thinks it is the other. For a very brief time, the clouds forget where they are and they drift through the water instead of the sky, and the sky forgets itself and reflects everything like a giant pool of crystal-clear water.
This is the stuff that legends are made of. “Magic Mirror up so high, who’s the fairest in the sky?” Surely the Evil Queen from the Snow White story would have asked that question had she seen twilight in Maine over a river. And to that question, she would have heard the following answer: “Famed is thy beauty, Majesty, but behold, a lovely tree I see. A barren season cannot hide its gentle grace. Alas, it is fairer than thee.”
What then? Would the Evil Queen have sent the huntsman to Maine? But he is already here! That noble Prince of Thieves has secretly dwelled in our woods since time immemorial and would no sooner hand over the sublime beauty of the Maine twilight than betray Marion, who is often reflected therein. I am afraid the Queen will have to live with being second.
And then the time changes. The few precious seconds of twilight are gone, and we sail off into the night, assured again in our course, the Earth once more sailing diligently onward. The Queen, the huntsman, and the maiden all drift back to their secret realm, waiting for their chance to slip through again.