A Morning Row

“How often have I watched, and longed to imitate when I should be free to live as I chose, a rower who had slipped his oars and lay flat on his back in the bottom of the boat, letting it drift with the current, seeing nothing but the sky gliding slowly by above him, his face aglow with a foretaste of happiness and peace!”

― Marcel Proust, Swann’s Way

Bachman Lake, Dallas, Texas

2 responses to “A Morning Row

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